Kismet
by Miguel51
Summary: Kismet may be just another word for destiny but the road it sets us upon is not always a smooth one. This is a lesson that Rory Gilmore is about the learn the hard way. [Post season 7, ignores the events of A Year In The Life.]
1. Brain Cramp Kind of Day

**KISMET**

1 - Brain Cramp Kind Of Day

It had been a long day for Rory, who let out a long yawn while stretching the knots in her shoulders from being hunched over her laptop for the last couple of hours. She glanced out her apartment window to find that it was already dark outside, which in turn caused her to quickly check the time on her watch.

"Damn, it's almost eight thirty and I'm only half done," she muttered to herself. Rory had spent nearly four hours of writing this article and it was proving to be a particularly stubborn piece to flesh out.

Deciding that maybe a coffee break would help regain her focus, Rory hit the save button then rose up from her chair to head into the kitchen. A brief moment of panic gripped Rory when her hand grasped the coffee canister from the countertop, its lightness immediately telling the journalist that it was empty. She'd have to head out to grab some from the convenience store down the street, or Rory would never be able to look her mother in the eye ever again. A Gilmore girl forgetting to buy herself coffee? Such a travesty!

With this thought in mind, Rory rushed out the door then down the stairwell and into the street towards the neighbourhood convenience store. It didn't take her much time to reach Park's Family Convenience since it was barely two blocks from her apartment building.

"Hey, Myung," she greeted upon entering the store, a warm smile directed at the teenage cashier behind the counter.

"Hey, Rory," the high schooler returned with a knowing expression. "Ran out of coffee again, didn't you?"

"Yeah, you know how it is when I'm writing," shrugged the sheepish journalist on her way down the necessary aisle.

"For someone who claims to be addicted to the stuff, you sure forget to restock it a lot," commented an obviously amused Myung from her station.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Rory retorted with a chuckle. After grabbing her prize from its shelf, she decided that some ice cream was in order as well and made a detour to the freezers where it was located. As the youngest Gilmore passed by one of the aisles on the way to purchase her items, Rory caught sight of a vaguely familiar figure in the corner of her eye. When she turned her head for a better look though, they had already turned the corner out of sight. The reporter shrugged it off as her mind playing tricks on her before continuing towards the cash register.

"That'll be $12.98, Rory," the cashier stated after ringing them through.

"Is debit, okay?" Rory inquired, her card held up for Myung to see.

"Machine's down 'til tomorrow morning," the teen apologized. "Cash only. Sorry."

"Just add that to my stuff, I'll pay for it," stated a voice that the journalist hadn't heard since her senior year at Yale.

"Are you sure, sir?" Myung frowned up at the man in line behind Rory.

"If it's alright with Rory, then, yeah, I'm sure," he confirmed.

The teen glanced at the now shell shocked journalist with concern. "Uh, Rory?"

"Um, w...what?" Rory stammered, caught completely off guard by this development.

"Are you okay with this?"

"Um, yeah, sure," she nodded to the teen before turning to face her unexpected rescuer. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Right back at you," the tall, dark haired man returned, now somewhat shy and awkward in his demeanor. He placed his own purchases on the counter, a rueful smile on his lips. "I've got this. No worries."

"Thanks," Rory glanced up to meet his brown eyed gaze. _Huh, there are flecks of green in his eyes. How did I never notice that before?_

"I hate to break up this touching reunion, but we close in ten minutes and I still have homework to do tonight," interrupted the teenager, which made both customers to break their staring contest.

"Yeah, sorry about that," the journalist heard her former college friend say, wondering if he was blushing as hard as Rory was now. "How much?"

"That'll be $19.49, please," the cashier answered.

"Keep the change," he said to the teenager, holding out one of two bags towards Rory. "Here, these are yours, I believe."

"Thanks," she answered again, the numbly repeated words making the award winning journalist feel like anything but that.

"Well, I'll see you around, Rory," the tall, once awkwardly lanky man stated before all but rushing out the door.

"So, he was cute," the teen behind the counter commented with a smirk. "Sort of has a John Mayer kind of look to him, don't you think?"

"That he does," agreed Rory, still rooted in her place.

"Shouldn't you go after him?" Myung urged. "You know, if only to find out how you're going to pay him back for his generosity."

"I probably should," she agreed again while heading towards the exit.

"Happy hunting," the high schooler called out, clearly enjoying the show.

Once she got out onto the street, Rory briefly lost sight of her target before a knock on the glass behind her caught the reporter's attention. There in the window was a wildly gesturing Myung, a gleeful expression on her cherubic face as the young Korean girl pointed to the left. With a roll of her azure eyes, Rory rushed in the indicated direction as fast as her feet could carry her. Without actually outright breaking into a run, of course.

It didn't take her long to catch up to her quarry, his casual stride telling Rory that he believed that he'd already made his escape.

After calling out his name two or three times to no avail, Rory shouted the only thing she knew would definitely get her fellow Yale alumni's attention.

"Hey, Naked Guy!"

Seeing that what she'd shouted had its desired affect, Rory easily caught up to her now still standing target.

"Please tell me that you did not just shout that at me on a crowded street," Marty complained when she'd finally reached him.

"Well, you shouldn't have been ignoring me when I was calling your name, you big jerk," retorted Rory with an admittedly weak punch to his arm.

"I wasn't ignoring you," he denied, only to wilt under her scrutiny. "Fine, I was ignoring you," Marty sighed in defeat. "But given how our last meeting went, can you really blame me?"

"No, I guess not," she conceded, the memory of that awful dinner four years earlier causing her to cringe. "But, hey, that's all in the past now, right?"

"I guess so," he shrugged, though his expression told her that this wasn't quite true. Seeming to sense that Rory was onto him, Marty let out another defeated sigh then elaborated. "That was a real crappy night for me, so I really don't like talking about it."

"Duly noted," an understanding Rory nodded. It wasn't exactly one of her favourite memories either, to be perfectly honest. "So, where you headed?"

"Just home," answered her old college friend. "About four blocks that way."

She quirked an eyebrow at that. "Quite a ways for two chocolate bars and a bottle of Gatorade, isn't it?"

"Still inquisitive as ever, I see," Marty joked in his trademark deadpan fashion.

"Well, I always said I wanted to become a journalist after all," Rory reminded him.

"And I bet whichever paper hired you is lucky to have you," he complimented with sincerity. "But I really do need to go. Andy's probably wondering what's taking me so long."

"Is that your roommate?" she asked, curious.

"In a manner of speaking," the taller of the two answered, somewhat evasive. Before Rory could delve any deeper though, Marty changed the subject. "Are you going to be alright walking home by yourself?"

"I'll grab a taxi," Rory casually waved off his concern, despite being touched by the display. When he frowned at her with an unconvinced expression, she couldn't help but roll her eyes in mock frustration. "I'll be fine, Marty. Go home to your roommate!"

"If you say so," he agreed while walking away. "Good night."

"Good night," she parroted.

It wasn't only until she lost sight of him that Rory remembered that she had no actual cash her. Not to mention the fact she'd completely forgotten to get Marty's contact information, too.

"Ah, damn it," Rory lamented heavenward. _It is a really good thing I live in a decent neighbourhood._

* * *

 _ **Okay, so I'm back writing fanfics. Who'd have thought that would happen? Certainly not me, to be honest. Anyway, if this story seems familiar, that's because I wrote it before but erased it when I decided to stop doing the whole fanfic thing. And when I say erased, I mean that I eradicated its entire existence. I kind of regret that now, especially after watching the debacle that Rory's life has become thanks to the revival. So I'm rewriting Kismet from memory here, thus I need you, gentle readers, to be patient with me.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading and please feel free to leave a review! See you next update, my friends.**_


	2. Not Exactly Suzy Homemaker

2 - Not Exactly Suzy Homemaker

The trek home from the convenience store was not a long one but for Marty, who was still somewhat surprised by his sudden reunion with Rory Gilmore, it seemed to be taking twice its original time to traverse.

Naturally his thoughts lingered on their previous encounter, that incredibly disastrous dinner between Rory, Lucy, Logan and himself. How could Marty not think about it? That night had to be one of his worst experiences while attending Yale. When the memories began to stir up a familiar but thought to be long forgotten bitterness in his stomach, Marty began to lowly mutter the first song that came to mind in an attempt to bury those unpleasant emotions.

"Keep me closer...I'm a lazy dancer...when you move...I move with you..."

 _Andy loves that song_ , he mused with an affectionate smile.

As he pulled one of the two chocolate bars from the plastic bag, Marty decided to be grateful that things had gone the way they had that night. If Lucy hadn't broken up with him back then, Marty would probably never taken the job offer from a respected architectural firm in Chicago. He'd most likely would've followed Lucy to Manhattan like they'd originally planned. Which meant he'd never have met Andy, and Marty could not imagine how his life would be otherwise. Hell, he didn't want to imagine that sort of life.

About a half block from his townhouse, Marty's thoughts returned to Rory. After the whole debacle that was their last meeting, Marty hadn't really kept track of his former friend and crush. Of course, he'd heard of Logan's proposal thanks to the gossip between two of his catering co-workers but beyond that, Marty knew nothing. He briefly wondered why Rory had refused but shook his head at the thought. It wasn't any of his business.

His chocolate bar finished, Marty dumped the waste into the nearest trash bin before picking up his pace.

"Honey, I'm home," Marty called out upon entering the house.

"Kitchen!"

"Oh, that's not good," he deadpanned at the panicky voice, his keys and purchases placed on the foyer table while heading towards the aforementioned kitchen. His worries were confirmed upon entering the room as the smell of smoke lingered in the air despite the window being opened to its widest. His gaze fell on what looked to be the charred remains of a pie inside the stove then slowly shifted over to the table where a slim blonde woman was now seated with a defeated expression of her face. "You know, when I said I was going for a walk, that was not me giving you permission to burn our home down."

"Oh, shut up, you big jerk," she huffed, miserable. "I was trying to surprise you with that horrible peach pie you love so much but I screwed it up."

"It's the thought that counts," he shrugged. "But considering your history with anything kitchen related, I have to ask. Why?"

"I had this weird, irresistible urge to be a domestic goddess," she answered with a defeated sigh. "I really should've known better."

"Well, that's what happens when you pour all your efforts into learning the piano and guitar instead of basic cooking skills," he quipped, only to quickly add at her sharp glare. "Not that I'm complaining because, hey, I love you."

"Nice recovery, Martin," the blonde smirked, now standing up from the table to approach him. She threw her arms around his shoulders then pulled Marty in for a soft, quick kiss. "So, how was your little walkabout?"

"Other than running into an old classmate from Yale, not all that interesting, to be honest," the taller of the couple stated.

"I still can't believe you went to that snobby school," Andy teased.

"Hey, not all of us mere mortals have the talents of a rock goddess like you, babe," he bantered.

"Such a flatterer," she kissed him again, only deeper this time. After about ten seconds of this, the curly haired blonde pulled back to meet his eyes. "You had chocolate, didn't you?"

"Yours is on the foyer table," Marty told his girlfriend, who squealed in delight as she disentangled herself from him in order to go grab her treat. He rolled his eyes at the childish display with mock exasperation before beginning the process of cleaning up his girlfriend's mess. Not even halfway to the still opened oven though, Andy stuck her head back through the door to gaze adoringly at him. "Yes?"

"Oh, nothing," she smiled. "Just wanted to tell you that I love you, too, Martin."

With that said Andy disappeared out of the room again to leave a smiling Marty to his task, any and all thoughts of Rory Gilmore now forgotten.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. Leave a review please. See you next update!**


	3. With A Lonely & Traitorous Heart

3 - With A Lonely & Traitorous Heart, She Sighed

It had been a few days since her awkward encounter with Marty, and she had begun to wonder if she'd ever see him again. Chicago was a big city after all, so the odds of running into her former college friend without actively searching him out were slim at best. She had contemplated walking down the four blocks or so to where he said his home was located, but without an actual physical address Rory would simply be wandering around in a strange neighborhood. The possiblities for trouble after that were endless, and the last place Rory Gilmore wanted to end up was on a missing persons poster. Especially considering her luck with photos, she'd probably end up with one where she looked completely deranged. And who wants to help find a crazy woman?

"Why not ask the telephone directory?" Her mother suggested over the phone during this latest of their bi-daily phone calls.

"Tried that, but it turns out that there are no Martin Harrisons in the Chicago area," she sighed, the cordless receiver pressed against her ear. "Then again, he did say something about having just moved here, so that could be the reason behind that. That, or he's got a private number."

"Can I ask why you're looking for him again?" Lorelai asked, sounding a tad confused. "Weren't we supposed to be mad at the guy?"

"The whole debacle with Lucy wasn't just his fault, Mom," Rory explained, opening the cupboards in search of a snack with her free hand. "I screwed up, too, and I want to make sure that there are no hard feelings between us. Besides, we were really good friends back during our freshman year, and I'd like that back because, let's face it, I don't have all that many friends here. Or any, for that matter."

"What about that Sarah girl from work you hung out with?" Lorelai asked, curious. "What happened to her?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you?"

"Nope."

"She got an offer from a news outlet in Tampa that was just too good to refuse," Rory sighed, a little sad at the reminder. "Hello, Florida and hot guys on sunny beaches. Good-bye, Chicago and work buddy Rory."

"That sucks, Babe," Lorelai said in sympathy.

"Well, I'm going to go finish my latest assignment then head down to Sutton's for a late dinner," she stated with slight frustration, annoyed that there was absolutely nothing edible in her apartment. "I'll call you Wednesday, okay?"

"Okay, 'til then, Rory," her mother replied cheerily. "Love you, kid."

"Love you, too, Mom," Rory said back before hanging up, walking over to her laptop on the table. She frowned at the unfinished article with distain, as if it were mocking Rory for her inabililty to concentrate then sighed in resignation as her stomach began to growl. "I'll finish it when I get back," she muttered, grabbing her bag and heading out the door.

About ten minutes later, Rory walked into Sutton's Bistro and waited to be seated. She didn't have to wait long though because a waitress arrived and greeted her with a tight smile.

"How many people will be joining you, miss?" She asked.

"Just me," Rory answered, feeling like a loser for some reason.

"Alright, then," the waitress nodded, then turned and waved for Rory to follow. "Come with me, please."

Rory couldn't be sure of it, but it seemed that the waitress had briefly given her a pitying expression before turning away. She shrugged it off, deciding that it just her imagination, and followed the woman to a booth made for two people.

"I'll bring you a menu and something to drink, if you like," the waitress informed her, whose name tag identified her as Gloria. Rory glanced up from quickly reading the tag to meet her brown eyes, only to see the same pitying expression flash across the woman's face again before it disappeared.

"I'll have a martini, please," Rory ordered, annoyed with the entire situation.

"I'll only be a moment," she nodded, leaving soon after.

"Alone again," Rory muttered in an ironic tone, rolling her eyes.

A half hour passed by and Rory found herself outside in the street, her hunger assuaged for the time being. She glanced at her watch quickly, then began the short trek home with the intention of completing her unfinished article. She had just turned the darkened corner near the Comet Club when her eyes fell on a familiar lanky figure. Marty stood alone outside the club, leaning lazily against a parking meter as though he was waiting for somebody. Rory was just about to walk up and make her presense known when she was interupted by a very gorgeous and vivacious blonde, who threw herself into Marty's arms and practically slammed her mouth onto his in a very public display of affection.

 _It's like she's trying to eat his face,_ Rory thought, watching the couple make-out with morbid fascination. No matter how badly she wanted to right then and there, she couldn't pull her gaze from the two lovers in front of her. _I really shouldn't be staring at them like a freak._

Despite this thought though, she just stood there with wide eyes until Marty and the blonde disengaged to hail a cab. While the couple entered the cab and drove off, she couldn't help but feel completely and utterly betrayed by this developement.

And to make matters worse, Rory knew that she had absolutely no right to feel that way.

* * *

 **Shout out to RyanPFW for having a full copy of Kismet.**

 **Ryan, you da real MVP.**

 **More chapters coming at a faster rate. Just gonna do some tweaking along the way. Reviews would be great, too, please.**


	4. Insert Awkwardness Here

4 - Insert Awkwardness Here

Marty groaned, sitting up in bed to find himself alone. He blinked a few times before throwing off the covers to make his way downstairs, more or less stumbling to where he knew he'd find Andy. When Marty reached the bottom of the stairs, he could hear music coming from the kitchen, accompanied by the blonde's lilting, melodic voice singing along to the lyrics.

 _'Get hot_  
 _Get too close to the flame_  
 _Wild open space_  
 _Talk like an open book_  
 _Sign me up'_

 _'Got no time to take a picture_  
 _I'll remember someday_  
 _All the chances we took_  
 _We're so close_  
 _To something better left unknown_  
 _We're so close_  
 _To something better left unknown_  
 _I can feel it in my bones'_

Marty pushed the door open slightly to peek in, smirking as his unsuspecting girlfriend was singing into a spoon like a microphone and dancing away. She was dressed just in Marty's black t-shirt (emblazoned with 'the Shins' on the front) and a pair of short-shorts that accentuated her already long legs. While he enjoyed watching her perform on stage, Marty absolutely loved moments such as this, where Andy just let loose and belted out at the top of her lungs without a care in the world.

In his humble opinion, this was when Andrea Marie Walker was at her most beautiful.

 _'Gimme sympathy_  
 _After all of this is gone_  
 _Who would you rather be?_  
 _The Beatles or the Rolling Stones?_  
 _Oh, seriously, you're gonna make mistakes_  
 _You're young_  
 _Come on, baby, play me something like_  
 _Here comes the-'_

"-son of a bitch, you scared me!" Andy shrieked with her green eyes wide open, stopping mid-song when she finally noticed him watching her.

"Oh, don't stop on my account, Miss Walker," he clapped, entering the kitchen proper.

"I didn't think that you were awake," the blushing blonde muttered, looking down at the floor as Metric continued to play in the background.

"So you start catterwalling at the top of your lungs?" He laughed, stepping forward to embrace her.

"Just got caught up in the tune," she said, tippy-toeing to kiss him before slipping out of his arms. "Made coffee, if you're wondering."

"Coffee, good," he grunted like a cave man, walking over to grab himself some.

"I'm gonna go take a quick shower, then meet Lexie for breakfast," Andy said, heading towards the swinging door. "Wanna come with?"

"For the shower, or the breakfast?" He teased, taking a long pull from his cup.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, wiggling her eyebrows in a suggestive manner. "Both."

"I'll be right up," he squeaked, swigging back the rest of his coffee before following Andrea up the stairs.

It was a good hour later when he and Andrea walked into the little diner Lexie had told his girlfriend to meet her, the both of them glancing at the assortment of people gathered in the eating establishment. Andy spotted her brunette band manager first, though it was rather hard to miss the young woman since she was waving her arm like a maniac to draw their attention.

"Hey, come here, Walker," Lexie greeted with a grin, jumping up from her booth to engulf the blonde in a hug. She turned to Marty and did the same to him, gripping him tightly before sitting back down. "Howdy, Marty!"

"Howdy, Lexie," he returned, feeling a little silly for actually having said 'howdy'. He slid into the opposite seat in the booth with Andy following him, the couple sitting directly across from their friend.

"What's with the Texan accent, Keaton?" Andy smirked, which was a question that Marty had been wondering himself. "You're from Banger, Maine, if I remember correctly."

"Just having a little fun," the bouncy brunette shrugged, then corrected the blonde on her pronounciation of her hometown. "And it's Bangor, not Banger, you silly hick."

"Charlotte isn't exactly the sticks, Chowderhead," the southern belle retorted.

"Oh, boy," Marty groaned, all too used to this type of behavior whenever the two girls were together.

"You folks ready to order yet?" A waitress asked, thankfully interupting their 'argument'.

"Just coffees for them, thanks. We're waiting for somebody else to arrive before we order anything to eat," Lexie smiled up at her, then turned her attention back to the perplexed looking blonde. "What?"

"Who are we waiting for, Lex?" Andy asked, confused.

"The Tribune wants an interview with you, the lead singer of Ragged Dolls," Lexie explained, stirring her green tea. "And I, as your band's manager, thought this would be the only time we could do this before you head back out on tour next weekend, since you're so damned touchy about how you spend your free time."

"I don't appreciate being ambushed like this, Lexie," the blonde frowned, clearly annoyed.

"Suck it up, Spazmaster, it's done," the brunette said, unfazed by her best friend's glare. "Besides, here she is."

Andy turned in her seat to try to catch a glimpse of their new breakfast companion, bumping her boyfriend slightly in the attempt. Marty, who'd been only half listening this entire time, continued to fiddle around with the table condiments like he'd been doing while the girls were speaking, only to go rigid as an all too familiar voice reached his ears.

"Hi, I'm the reporter from the Tribune, my name is-"

"Rory?" Marty finished in surprise, glancing up from the packets of sugar in his hands.

"Marty," Rory whispered, azure blue saucers staring back at him.

* * *

 **This whole writing gig so much easier when you don't have to do it from scratch!**


	5. The Reporter & the Rock Star

5 - The Reporter & the Rock Star

When Rory agreed to do this interview, the last thing she expected was to discover that Marty would be present. To tell the truth, she didn't really know what to expect from the coming interview. Rory hadn't even heard of the Ragged Dolls until six months ago, when the first single from their debut album began receiving tons of airplay. One of the local DJs were infatuated with them, hailing them as Chicago's very own version of No Doubt. It was a comparison that confused Rory, considering that they sounded nothing alike. Ragged Dolls sounded more rock than pop to her, though many of their songs were rather catchy. The only thing that she could see that the bands had in common were the fact that the bands were comprised of three guys with a girl on vocals, and even then Ragged Dolls' singer played an intrument. Keyboards, if Rory remembered correctly.

"You two know each other?" Alexandra 'Lexie' Keaton asked, bring her back from her reverie. She glanced back and forth between Rory and Marty, an amused little smirk on her lips. She had met with Rory three days earlier in her editor's office, where they hit it off. This resulted in the editor assigning her to the interview at Miss Keaton's request, despite the fact that Rory usually ran the political beat.

"We went to Yale together," she answered after an awkward moment, fighting against that familiar urge to run out the door. Fleeing at the first sign of trouble was a habit that Rory had promised to break herself of, and she intended to keep that pledge. But sometimes, it's so very hard not to run.

"Yeah, she's the friend I ran into a couple days ago," Marty added, shifting his gaze to the blonde beside him.

The blonde turned her gaze from him to up at Rory. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah, he bought my coffee and ice cream when I didn't have any money," Rory nodded, then quickly added in a sheepish voice. "I only had my debit card and the machine was out at Park's."

"Oh, hell, where are my manners?" Lexie practically shouted, jumping up from her seat. "Andy, I'd like to introduce you to Rory Gilmore, Chicago Tribune."

"Hey," Andy nodded, politely smiling at her.

"Hey," she parroted, giving the blonde a shy, little wave.

"Rory, this is my best friend and soon-to-be superstar client, Andy Walker," Lexie chirped, then waved lazily towards the fidgetting figure seated in the booth. "You already know Marty, so we'll skip that introduction."

"Alexandra," the blonde girl warned in a slightly menacing tone.

"Yes, Andrea?" Lexie asked, looking back with an innocent expression.

"It's too early for your antics, Lexie, especially when you just sprang this interview on her two seconds ago," Marty explained, placing a hand on the blonde's forearm. It was hard to tell if he did this to reassure or restrain her, because the blonde looked like she wanted to jump up and physically attack her manager. "Easy there, Andy."

"It's okay," she breathed, glaring at Lexie. "I'll just kill her when there's no witnesses around."

"Fine, I'm sorry for ambushing you, you big baby," the brunette apologized, rolling her eyes. She then turned to Rory. "Wanna grab something to eat now?"

"Um, sure," she nodded, sliding into the booth. She smiled uneasily at the young man across from her, wondering if he was going to give Rory the cold shoulder like he did that time with Lucy. "Hey, Marty."

"Hey, Rory," Marty greeted back, smiling warmly at her. "How you doing?"

"I'm fine," she replied, a little taken aback. This was definitely a pleasant surprise. "Thanks."

"Good to hear," he nodded.

"So how do you two know each other anyway?" Lexie asked, curious.

"They went to Yale together," Andy answered for them with a scoff, then glanced at Marty. "Jeez, I though I was supposed to be the dumb blonde at the table."

"The way you guys talk to each other makes me wonder if you really are best friends," Marty deadpanned.

"Sometimes, I wonder that myself," Lexie sighed, then turned her attention back to Rory. "What I meant to ask is, how did you meet our boy here?"

Rory looked at Marty, whose eyes had suddenly become very round. If it were anybody other than Marty, she would've been tempted to regale the humiliating tale of their first meeting. Except that this was Marty, and Rory felt that if she was going to try and repair their shattered friendship, she might as well start now.

"Well?" Lexie pressed.

"That's...a tale for another day, I think," Rory replied evasively, then added with a smirk. "Besides, I'm supposed to be here to interview Andy, remember?"

"Damn, I was hoping she forgot," the blonde half-joked, snapping her fingers.

"No fun," Lexie sighed in disappointment.

"Are you ready to order now?" An annoyed voice asked, interupting their conversation.

"Oh, dear God, yes," Andy stated, shifting her gaze up to the waitress. "I'm freaking starving!"

"Drama queen," Lexie teased her friend.

"Quiet, I'm still annoyed at you!"

"Thank you," Marty mouthed while Andy and Lexie were distracted, making their orders and snipping at each other.

"No problem," Rory mouthed back with a smile.

It was during the waiting of their food that Rory pulled out her digital pocket recorder, placing it on the table before beginning the interview. She asked the usual questions, like who was her biggest influence and such. Although the blonde had seemed reluctant to participate at first, she quickly got in a groove and answered each question asked of her with a grace that Rory usually only seen in politicians and the like. The further along the interview went, Rory found herself admiring this woman. Andy was obviously very driven to succeed in her chosen profession and had worked her ass off to get to where she was today, which turned out to be on the cusp of stardom. She reminded Rory of her best friend Lane when it came to her love for music, viridian eyes shining brightly in that same way Lane's did whenever they spoke about music. They stopped awhile to eat when their food arrived, then started again as the dishes were being cleared.

"So who are you listening to right now?" Rory asked, pressing the record button again.

"Oh, I just discovered this amazing band from Toronto, and their material is some of the most genius music I've ever heard," Andy gushed, not at all looking like the relunctant interview subject she was some thirty odd minutes ago.

"She hasn't stopped listening to them since returning from the last tour," Marty groaned.

"Says the guy who constantly sings 'Collect Call' to himself when he thinks no one's around to hear him," she snorted.

 _That band must be pretty good if they have that sort affect on him_ , Rory thought, wondering at the sudden knot forming in her abdomen. She noticed how happy they were as the couple continued to flirt and tease each other, seeming to have forgotten that Rory was recording the conversation.

 _I don't think it's the band that's affecting him like that, Kid,_ her mother's voice stated in Rory's head, sounding a tad condescending.

 _I have to get out of here,_ Rory decided, not liking where her thoughts were leading. _Now!_

"You okay, Rory?" Lexie asked, a look of concern on her face.

"I'm fine," she lied, forcing a smile. As Lexie scooted to let her out of the booth, Rory grabbed her recorder and shoved it in her bag. "But I should be leaving to write this up if I want to make my deadline."

"Don't worry about brunch, I'll pay," Lexie shook her head when Rory tried to hand her some cash.

"You sure?" She asked.

"It's fine, just send me a copy of the interview before your editor publishes it and we'll be squared," Lexie assured.

"Okay, I will," Rory promised, then waved to the distracted Marty and his rock star girlfriend. "See you later."

Rory vaguely heard them return the farewell, her face feeling hot as she rushed out. She was a good block away from the diner before stopping to catch her breath, leaning back against a brick wall. Her gaze went skyward, her lungs burning from her impromptu run.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Rory rasped aloud, completely confused at the turmoil churning around in her stomach.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. Don't forget to leave a review. See next update!**


	6. Greek Ribs With a Side of Longing

6 - Greek Ribs With Longing On the Side

"I wish you could come with me," Andy said, her face buried into the crook of her boyfriend's neck. Her arms were encircled around him, the blonde clinging to him like it was the last time they'd ever see each other. She was like this right before her last tour, as well as the one before that and so on. Marty found it adorable, despite the fact it meant he wouldn't see her for weeks to come.

"So do I," Marty agreed, embracing her as the roadies were buzzing around in preparation for the first leg of their twenty-one city tour. "But things are picking up at work and that brand new townhouse we bought won't pay for itself."

"I know, I just hate leaving you for weeks on end, chasing after my dream while you plug away at the office to pay for eveything," Andy lamented before wiping her eyes, chuckling at herself. "God, I'm so sorry, I can be such a girl sometimes!"

"Really?" He joked, smiling at her. "I hadn't noticed!"

"You're an ass," she grinned, slapping his hip.

"I'm going to miss you so much," he said, turning serious.

"Ditto," she agreed before pressing her lips against his in a searing kiss.

"I love you, Andrea Marie Walker," he whispered when they parted, letting her out of his embrace.

"I love you, too, Martin Alexander Harrison," Andy returned with a sad smile, turning to board the bus. She rested her hand against the metal frame of its door, as though in deep thought before facing him again. "Don't shut yourself off from the world while I'm gone, okay?"

"I'll try not to," he promised.

"I mean it, Marty," she intoned.

"I'll be fine, Andy," he assured.

"If you get bored and can't get a hold of me, why not call that Yale friend of yours to hang out?" Andy suggested, then bounded up the steps without waiting for a reply. The doors hissed shut behind her, followed by the bus shifting loudly into gear before it lumbered away.

A few days later, Marty found himself doing exactly what Andy had told him not to do. He'd retreated into his shell, only leaving the house for work and the occasional grocery run. It was a sad state to be in, but Marty really didn't want to bug his girlfriend. That just left him with her suggestion of hanging out with Rory. The problem with this was the fact that he had no way of contacting her. It was too late in the day to call the Tribune, and he doubted that they'd give out the home number of an employee to some stranger anyway. He could call Lexie and see if she had Rory's number, but that would require him to actually speak with the infuriatingly annoying girl. She'd probably just hang up on him, claiming to be too busy with whatever the hell it was a band manager does to help him. Or worse yet, she'd get the misguided idea that he was planning to cheat on Andy. He shook his head before reaching for the cordless, deciding to take a chance by simply asking the operator, when the phone began ringing.

"Hello," he answered, holding the receiver to his ear.

"Please tell me I've got the right number," a familiar voice begged from the other end.

"Rory?" Marty asked in surprise.

"Marty?" Rory returned, then sighed in relief. "Okay, good. I thought I had misdialed again."

"This is weird, I was just going to ask the operator if there was a Rory Gilmore in the tri-county area," he mused aloud.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing I got the number from Lexie before you did that, especially since I'm listed under my full name," she chuckled.

"Right, I almost forgot that Rory's a nickname," he replied, then added in his usual deadpan. "Though I still don't know how you get Rory from Lorelai."

"Speaking of girls with boyish nicknames, would Andy be there?" Rory segued.

"No, she just left on tour a few days ago," he sighed without meaning to, then glanced at a nearby calender for the date. "Her and the guys would be somewhere in upstate New York about now."

"Sorry, didn't mean to bum you out," she apologized.

"It's fine, I just miss her," he replied, shaking his head at himself. "Anyhow, what's up?"

"My editor wants me to do a follow up interview with Andy, but he also wants her bandmates involved somehow," Rory told him, then added. "And Lexie suggested that I call Andy and schedule it with her considering how angry she got last time, but she didn't tell me that Andy had already left on the tour."

"Some band manager she is," Marty muttered, earning a laugh from the girl on the line. "If you want, I can pass it on to her when she calls me tomorrow. How does that sound to you?"

"That sounds great actually, Marty," she said, then stopped when a beep interupted the conversation. "Hold on, I got a call."

"Okay," he said, then waited a moment or so before Rory returned.

"That was our favorite band manager just now, telling me that Andy's left on tour and that she, as in Lexie, is just on her way to meet the band in Buffalo," she said with an ironic sigh.

"Quite the brain trust that Lexie," he chuckled.

"Have you eaten yet?" Rory asked out of the blue.

"Um, no, I haven't. Why?"

"Well, I was just going to head over to Sutton's Bistro for dinner and I was wondering if you'd like to come with?"

"Sure, why not? It saves me from having to actually cook, at least."

"Cool, then it's a date," she chirped, then quickly corrected herself. "I mean, it's not a date, just two old friends eating out."

"Dirty," he joked.

"Ungh, just meet me there in a half hour," she groaned, no doubt beet red in embarressment. "You know where it is, right?"

"Yeah, I've been there before, so I'll see you then," he confirmed before hanging up the phone. Marty got up from his chair and headed upstairs to change into something more casual, since it would be rude to show up still dressed in his work clothes. When he was done, Marty gave himself a quick once over in the mirror and shrugged in acceptance, deciding that his blue jeans and Yale sweatshirt were perfectly acceptable attire for a quiet dinner with a friend. Grabbing his keys and wallet from the nightstand and pocketing them, Marty calmly headed down the stairs. He slid his coat on and walked out the door, locking it behind him before meandering down the street in the direction of Sutton's Bistro. He decided to take his time and walk there instead of taking the bus, because he somehow knew that Rory would, in all likelihood, be late getting there anyway. He glanced up at the sky as snow began to fall, catching his attention for a moment.

"Should've brought my scarf," he smirked ruefully before continuing onwards.

 _Think I'll try the Greek ribs_ , Marty thought in passing, hands shoved into his coat pockets whilst he walked. _Andy seemed to like them the last time we ate there._

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**


	7. Early Snow Leads to a Short Fall

7 - Early Snow Leads To A Short Fall

Rory shakily placed the cordless receiver down, letting out a relieved breath in the process. She ran her fingers through her hair, wondering when she had become such a babbling idiot. She shook her head before walking to her little walk-in closet, unsure of what she wanted to wear on this non-date with Marty.

"Too slutty," she muttered at one choice, tossing it aside and grabbing another. "Ugh, too formal."

This carried on for several minutes, her choices and opinions shifting between each extreme, until she finally found a suitable choice. In the end, Rory chose her favorite dark blue cashmere sweater that hung a little loose, a black skirt that came down halfway on her shins, along with her matching one inch heeled black boots. She gave herself one final look in the full length mirror, gazing at her reflection with an appraising eye.

"Looking good, Gilmore," Rory said, then glanced at her watch. "Crap, I'm going to be late!"

She rushed out of the bedroom, then turned back to grab her bag off the dresser. She slid her coat on, then headed out the door. After stepping out of the apartment and locking the deadbolt, Rory hurried down the stairs at a breakneck speed that she wouldn't have dared attempt under normal circumstances, especially considering her current poor choice in footwear. The boots were certainly stylish, but they weren't designed for running, that was for sure.

"Should've worn my sneakers," she muttered, only to realize then that it had begun snowing outside. Rory smiled, remembering what her mother always said about the first snowfall of the year. _Magical things happen when it snows...I wonder what sort of magic the snow has in store for me?_

It was some minutes later when she finally arrived at Sutton's, hoping that Marty wouldn't be too put out by her tardiness, that it hit Rory like a ton of bricks. She had unintentionally allowed herself to get all worked up over this impromptu dinner (which she had suggested in the first place), all for a guy who was no longer available. And not just any guy either. This was Marty of all people, the boy who just wasn't exciting enough for her back in college!

"Idiot," she chided herself, wondering if it was too late to cancel. _Maybe I can just slip out befo-_

"Wow, I can't believe you beat me here," a familiar voice said from behind her.

"Hey, Marty," she greeted, turning to face him. So much for that idea!

"I suddenly feel a little under-dressed," he joked, removing his coat to fold over his arm.

"Funny, because I'm feeling the exact opposite over here," Rory muttered under her breath, pulling her own coat off.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Table for two?" A waitress in her teens asked, displaying a brilliant smile that showed off the girl's braces.

"That'd be great, thanks," Marty nodded, then turned to Rory. "Shall we eat?"

"Let's," she replied, trying to ignore the queer fluttering in her stomach.

"How weird is it that it's snowing in September?" Marty asked after they were seated.

"Honestly, I don't know, this'll be my first winter in Chicago," Rory shrugged, then decided to clarify when she noticed Marty's quizzical expression. "I only just moved here at the end of March."

"Trust me then, when I tell you it's weird," he chuckled, looking down at the menu in his grasp.

"Didn't you just move to town last month?" Rory asked, confused by the statement.

"No, we just moved across to this side of town last month," Marty corrected, glancing up. "Andy and I lived in the same apartment building before we got the townhouse."

"So what you're saying is that the two of you just recently moved into together?" She leaned forward, her interest piqued.

"No, we've been living together for almost a year now, but I got a promotion at work and we decided to get a bigger place since the apartment we were at was little more than a closet," he explained, returning his attention to the menu. "Hmm, I know I'm getting the Greek ribs, but I can't decide if I want the baked potato or some rice on the side."

"I vote for the potato," Rory suggested, then continued with her inquiries. "So which of you moved into the other's apartment before the townhouse?"

"I moved in with her," he answered, seeming not to mind that Rory was asking so many questions. "Believe it or not, I had less stuff, so it was an easy thing to decide."

"I see," she nodded.

"So what's been going on with you, Rory?" He asked, turning the tables on her. "Last I heard, Logan wanted to make you his trophy wife."

"Says the rock star's boy-toy," Rory retorted with a smirk.

Marty laughed, "No, seriously though, what've you been up to since graduation?"

"Well, after dodging the Huntzberger bullet, I followed Obama around during his campaign," she said in a slightly joking tone, earning an amused chuckle from her dinner companion. "Then I headed back to Stars Hollow for my mom's wedding, which was followed by a stint with the Hartford Courier that lasted until I moved here. And that's pretty much it."

"Are you ready to order now?" The waitress asked, the same brace-filled smile plastered on her face. Her eyes seemed to be glued on Marty, who shifted a little uncomfortably under the teenager's adoring gaze. Though she would've laughed under normal circumstances, Rory felt like telling the girl to back the hell off. She frowned at this notion, a little confused at the sudden possessive streak. She pushed the thought aside for now, deciding to deal with it later.

"I'll have the Greek ribs with the baked potato, please," he ordered with a polite smile.

"And you, miss?" The waitress asked, turning to Rory.

"I'll have the veggie pasta," Rory replied, ordering the same thing she had last time.

The non-date continued at a smooth pace, and Rory soon forgot about her earlier missteps and inappropriate feelings of jealousy. Marty told her about his promotion at the architectural firm where he'd been working at for the last three years, and Rory told him about things that had happened during Obama's campaign and her stint at the Courier. It was going so well in fact that they'd lost track of time.

"Whoa, it's getting late," Marty said, glancing at his watch.

"Really?" Rory asked, copying his actions to find that it was indeed late. "Wow, it's nearly ten!"

"We should probably go before they kick us out," he joked, rising from his chair.

"I'll buy," Rory declared, remembering that she still owed him for the ice cream and coffee.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I haven't paid you back for Park's, remember?"

"Well, if you insist," he shrugged, pulling his coat on. "But only on the condition that I walk you home, because there is no way I'm letting you go by yourself. Way too dangerous, especially after dark."

"Such a gentleman," she said with an exaggerated snort, though on the inside Rory was touched by his concern.

"And on that note, let's go," he replied in his usual monotone.

After paying for their meals, the pair exited the restaurant and walked down the street side by side. The scene took Rory back to her freshman year at Yale, when they'd walk in the same fashion on their way to classes or the cafeteria together. She glanced sidelong at the young man beside her, wondering if he was remembering that time in their lives as well. She shook her head at the thought. Probably not.

"This is me," Rory declared, her voice sounding strange to her ears after their mostly quiet walk.

"Guess this is good night then, Rory," he nodded, about to turn away.

"Good night, Marty," she returned as he walked away. She stood there on the top of the steps, watching him until he was out of sight before heading inside. Rory leaned back against the stairwell wall, staring up at the ceiling. A moment later it dawned on her again, only this time more clearly than earlier. The reason why she'd been acting so irrational the entire night. It was no use denying it any longer. She was attracted to Marty, who just so happened to be deeply in love with another woman.

Rory let out a deep sigh, while palming her forehead. "I am so screwed."

* * *

 **Silly Rory, Marty's for Andy!**


	8. With a Song in His Heart

8 - With A Song In His Heart, He Picks A Fight

"Those guys were fast," Rory said, still sounding surprised.

"I thought you said you've been to a hockey game before?" Marty frowned.

"That was between two high school teams though," she replied, glancing sidelong at him. "They were nowhere near that fast. They were snail-like in comparison!"

"Congratulations, Miss Gilmore, you now know the vast difference in skill between professionals and amateurs," he deadpanned, walking beside her on their way towards her apartment building. It had become somewhat of a routine for them since meeting up almost a month earlier. They agreed to meet up someplace, do an activity of some sort decided by one of them, followed by a bite to eat, which was then finished by with him escorting her home. Tonight had been his turn to chose their activity, so he had taken her to a Blackhawks game. Rory was surprised and told him sporting events weren't her thing but she went along with it anyway.

"Why thank you, Mister Harrison, for that learning experience," the blue eyed brunette said with an exaggerated southern accent, which only served to remind Marty on who was currently absent from his life. She apparent picked up on that as well, because he noticed Rory wince slightly after the words had left her mouth. "Sorry, I forgot."

"It's okay, Rory," he smiled, shaking his head.

"When does Andy get back?" Rory asked, surprising Marty a little by the question. With the exception of their first get together, she seemed to actively avoid any conversation concerning his girlfriend. In fact, Rory would change the subject whenever her name came up. "Marty?"

"Oh, um, in about two weeks," he answered.

"Where do you think they'd be right now?"

"Seattle."

"She travels a lot, huh?"

"Rory?" Marty asked, stopping to grab her attention.

"Yeah?" She replied, stopping as well.

"What's with the questions on Andy all of a sudden?"

"No reason," she shrugged and gave him a smile that seemed a little forced. "Just curious."

Despite not buying that answer for a second, Marty decided to drop the matter. He looked up and noticed where they were standing, just across the street from Andy's favorite live music venue. "Huh."

"What?"

"Comet Club," he gestured with his chin.

"Really?" Rory squeaked, following his gaze before turning back to him. "You know, I've walked by it so many times, but never been inside."

"Andy loves that place," Marty said, then wondered at the unreadable expression on her face. "Rory?"

"Let's head inside," she suggested, gripping his sleeve and dragging him towards the nearest crosswalk.

"Sure, why not?" He sighed, allowing himself to be lead along. A few moments later found them inside, the pair sitting down at the bar.

"Hey, Marty," the bartender greeted.

"Okay, never a good thing when the bartender knows your name," Rory joked.

"You're not Andy," the bartender noted with a frown.

"No, I'm Rory," she introduced herself. "I went to Yale with Marty."

"Hello, Rory, I'm Lorne," the bartender smiled, then turned back to Marty. "Did Andy finally smarten up and leave your silly ass?"

"Nice, Lorne," he rolled his eyes. "And no, Andy's on tour."

"Hmm, too bad, that girl's a great draw on open mic nights," Lorne said sadly then quirked an eyebrow at him. "Speaking of open mic..."

"No," Marty told the bartender, vehemently shaking his head at the subtle suggestion. "No way."

"You sing?" Rory piped up, surprised.

"Not only does he sing but our man can play the guitar," Lorne informed her.

"Oh, this I have to see!" she squealed.

"Crap, I'm going to have to go up there, aren't I?" Marty groaned, somehow knowing that Rory would endlessly pester him if he didn't.

"Go, go, go," Rory grinned, waving him towards the stage.

"Fine, but don't be surprised if I totally bomb," he told her with a sigh, then started to make his way towards the stage.

When he reached the small stage, he picked up the acoustic guitar placed near a drum set and began tuning it.

"Take off your shirt," he heard Rory yell from her seat near the bar, making the small crowd laugh.

"Um, no," he said into the mic, licking his lips. Marty took a quick breath, then wondered a second on what he should play. The crowd began to murmer, restless at his apparent stage fright. He glanced at Rory, seated way in the back, and had a song pop into his head. "Okay, this is song I heard a while back, just after I graduated from college, and it just sort of stuck with me. Mind you, I was in a dark place back then, so bear with me."

He took a steadying breath, then began to softly strum the acoustic.

 _'The tiger waits_  
 _In the bushes by the lake,_  
 _But I'll never tear you apart._  
 _With a love so pure,_  
 _Our knees will shake,_  
 _And tremble...'_

Marty's eyes were drawn to Rory, his brown eyes meeting her shining blue, which were still visible to him even in the dim glow of the club.

 _'There were tracks in the silt,_  
 _Where the stream becomes still..._  
 _...But I'll never rip out your heart._  
 _You're such a gentle beast..._  
 _Oh, you never got tough,_  
 _Like I got tough,_  
 _Like I got tough...'_

The beat of his playing became louder, his strumming more pronounced as he began the next verse.

 _'The faces in the window?_  
 _They're just my friends._  
 _I promise I won't let them in._  
 _Oh, they live in the corn,_  
 _Where they die and they're born -_  
 _Where the blades go around,_  
 _Churn up the ground_  
 _To open the over-toiled soil._  
 _Ooooooooo baby,_  
 _Ooooooooo baby,_  
 _Ooooooooo babe...'_

His voice took a rougher tone, his eyes borrowing into Rory's.

 _'Slashed 'cross the back,_  
 _Your spine almost snapped._  
 _I put three bullets in its face,_  
 _And I hung it from a tree,_  
 _For the other ones to see_  
 _What happens if_  
 _You mess with me...'_

The crowd began clapping as his voice trailed off, but Marty's eyes didn't leave Rory, who had the most confused expression on her face. She shook her head, then walked towards the exit.

"Thank you," he muttered into the microphone, putting the guitar down and rushing after Rory. He may have just finished singing on stage, but Marty knew he was about to face the music once he got outside.

* * *

 **I kind of forgot how dark that song is...**


	9. Long Overdue, Like a Lost Library Book

9 - Long Overdue, Like a Lost Library Book

Rory took a deep breath, the song lyrics still ringing in her ears. A moment passed by before she heard the door open behind her.

"What the hell was that?" Rory asked in a flat tone, somehow knowing that the person to her back was Marty.

"Martin Tielle's 'I'll Never Tear You Apart'," he answered.

"That's not what I meant, Marty," she replied, turning to him.

"It's just a song," he stated, though his voice told Rory that even he didn't believe that.

"Funny, it sounded more like you telling me how shitty of a person I was back then," she said.

"Tom-a-to, to-ma-to," he shrugged.

"And here I thought we were back to being friends," she sighed, disappointed.

"Friends?" Marty scoffed, incredulous. "When were we ever friends, Rory? I mean, really friends? At best, the two of us were acquintences."

"How can you say that?" Rory cried in disbelief. "You were one of my closest, dearest friends freshman year!"

"Really? Was I still one of your closest, dearest friends when you suddenly fell off the face of planet to go chasing after Logan and his merry band of losers?"

"Hey, I wasn't the one who disappeared!" She screamed, angry at how he was trying to pin everything on her. "That was you!"

"That's crap and you know it, Rory," he snapped, glaring down at her. "I was still there, I still showed up at your dorm room to study, to hang out with you, but a guy can only be stood up and ignored for so long before finally getting the hint!"

"What hint?"

"That I'd been replaced," he said through clenched teeth. "You took off for that crowd so damn fast, I was left choking on the cloud of dust hanging in your wake."

"There was no cloud of dust," she shook her head in denial. "I invited you over to watch 'Duck Soup', remember? Hell, I had to practically beg you to!"

"Yeah, and that night turned out to be loads of fun me, by the way," he scoffed again, rolling his eyes. "Because being talked down to by a bunch of silver spoon fed half-wits who never had to work for anything in their lives was my idea on a good time!"

"You were the one who said that it was fine if we joined them for dinner," she reminded.

"Only after you told Logan that you couldn't because you had this dead weight attached to you neck," he retorted, pointing at himself. "God, Rory, do you have any idea how small I felt when I heard the disappointment in your voice?"

"Why didn't you say something back then?"

"If I was such a good friend to you, Rory, I shouldn't have had to say anything," he pointed out. "You would've just known! Should've realized that's not how you treat your friends!"

"Oh, this is rich, coming from you," Rory cried, glaring at him. "Need I remind you of how you treated me when Lucy 'introduced' us? I'd think twice about making a speech on friendship, if I were you. Otherwise, you might end up sounding like a hypocrite!"

"I didn't do that because we weren't friends, Rory," he denied, returning the glare in kind. "I did that because, like a complete and utter jackass, I was still hung up on you! Thank God I'm over that!"

"Screw you, Marty!" Rory shouted, unable to think of a proper rejoinder for that. She spun on her heel and stormed away with as much righteous indignation as she could muster, fighting back tears the entire time.

"Well, screw you, too!" He shot back, making her flinch.

When Rory got home, she walked into the bedroom and dejectedly plopped on her bed. She stared up at the ceiling, thinking back on what had just happened, what Marty had said to her. He'd been harsh, but honest with her on his feelings with what had happened back then. Maybe that's why it hurt Rory so much to hear the words. He had never been that angry sounding towards her. The closest Marty had gotten to tonight's display was when she was complaining about Logan, and he called Rory annoying for being so naive. His words hurt back then, but they were nothing compared to what his present outburst had caused. It was taking all of her determination not to cry right now.

"Was I really that terrible back then?" Rory rasped at the ceiling, then pulled out her cellphone. She hit four on her speed dial, deciding that the person who picked up would give Rory the honest answer she needed to hear.

"This had better be good, Gilmore," an always annoyed voice groaned into the receiver.

"Marty bitched me out tonight," she blurted.

"So the puppy finally grew himself some teeth, huh?" Paris chuckled. "Good for him."

"Did I really treat him that badly?" Rory whispered.

"Look, Rory, I know how you hate it when people point out how much you changed after hooking up with Logan, but you really did," Paris answered, sounding close to exhaustion. "And not for the better, might I add. You began to ignore all your friends, your school work went down the crapper, and even the psychotic bond with your mother suffered because you got caught up with that little idiot and his cadre of morons."

"A simple 'yes' would've sufficed, Paris," she sighed, both relieved and annoyed at Paris being, well, Paris.

"Are we done, Rory? Because I start my rounds in about three or four hours and I get little to no sleep as it is," the blonde informed her.

"Yeah, good night, Doctor Geller," Rory said.

"G'night, Gilmore," Paris replied before the line went dead.

Rory hugged the phone against her chest, debating for a moment before finally hitting the second person on her speed dial. Not surprisingly, it went directly to his voicemail.

"It's Rory," she said after the beep. "Just calling to say that I'm sorry, Marty. I know I was a shitty friend to you back then, but I was still your friend. And I hope I still am. Call me when you're ready to talk, okay? Bye."

 _Now, I just have to wait and see_ , Rory thought, hoping that her apology would be accepted.

* * *

 **A special thanks to Takalotti, who unintentially co-wrote this chapter. Her off the cuff dialogue was so much better than any of the crap I could come up with on my own, so I decided to used it. Hope you don't mind, Taks! So props to you, the best Nudist author I know! Wait, that sounds kind of dirty if taken out of context, doesn't it? Anyhow, lots of love, Taks!**


	10. Favors & Forgiveness

10 - Favors & Forgiveness

Marty had just sat down at his desk and booted up the laptop when somebody knocked on his office doorframe, immediately drawing his attention up to an attractive strawberry blonde standing in the doorway. He'd seen the girl around the office before, but Marty couldn't remember her name for the life of him. Clarissa, or something to that affect. She was his boss' new assistant, if memory served Marty correctly.

"Mr. Harrison?" She asked with an inquiring smile.

"Yeah?" Marty raised an eyebrow, still not quite used to being addressed in such a respectful manner, especially from somebody who couldn't be that much younger than himself. It made him feel old for some reason. "What's up?"

"Mr. Stevens wants to see you in his office," the girl informed him.

"Thank you," he nodded, then added as the girl was about to leave. "And call me Marty, please."

"Uh, okay, Mr. Harri-" she began, then corrected herself when he looked up at her. "I mean, Marty."

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Marty asked absently, pressing in the password for his company e-mail account. "If you could tell him I'll be up as soon as I can, that would be great, Miss..."

"Forester," the girl supplied with another shy smile. "Clara Forester."

"Thank you, Clara," he politely smiled back, looking up at her. "I just have a few e-mails to check, so unless it's something dire, I'll be a few minutes. Please inform Rob?"

"Yes, sir," she chirped before taking off.

"Hmm, I wonder if she would've gotten me coffee if I asked her to?" Marty muttered to himself, then snorted. _Then again, it's not like she's my assistant, now is she?_

After he was done checking his e-mail and replying to the ones that required his immediate attention, Marty rose from his desk and headed out to meet with his boss. The girl from earlier was currently on the phone, but she smiled up at Marty and waved him inside while she was speaking.

"You wanted to talk to me, Rob?" Marty asked, peeking his head inside to find his boss seated behind his desk, looking all sorts annoyed with his computer. "Rob?"

"Oh, come in, Marty," Rob said, waving him inside without letting his gaze leave the moniter. "Have a seat."

Marty sat down in one of two chairs set in front of the large desk, wondering what this call up could be about.

"You're probably wondering why I had Clarise call you in here, right?" Rob asked distractedly, his eyes still on the screen in front of him.

"You mean, Clara," he corrected.

"Her name is Clara?" His boss asked, looking away from his computer finally. "Huh, and here I was calling her Clarise for the last two and a half weeks."

"Nice," Marty chuckled, rolling his eyes at his boss in amusement.

"Anyhow, I need you to do me a favor," Rob said, ignoring his subordinate's remark.

"What do you need?" He asked, intrigued because Rob wasn't the sort of guy who requested favors very often. As in, ever.

"I've got a couple of tickets to the Mayor's Inaugural Ball, but it falls on my wife's birthday and she can't stand the assclown because they went to school together," his middle aged boss snorted, then smiled at Marty. "So, I was thinking that maybe you and that beautiful girlfriend of yours could make an appearance for the firm..."

"It all depends on when this shindig is taking place, Rob, since Andrea is still on tour until next Friday," he answered, leaning forward in his seat.

"Well, if you can't do it-" Rob began.

"When is it?" Marty sighed.

"This Saturday," the older man said, adding. "And you'll need a date, so you can take my assistant."

"Thanks, but that won't be necessary," he shook his head. "I'll just take a friend instead."

"As long as your friend is a girl, Marty, that's fine," Rob teased, grinning at him. "Remember, you'll be representing the company, so..."

"I'm gonna go now," Marty pointed to the door, rising from his chair.

"Have Clarise give the tickets to you on the way out," Rob informed him with a laugh. "And thanks."

"No problem," he replied, shutting the door behind himself.

"Is he still calling me 'Clarise'?" Clara asked, looking up Marty.

"Afraid so," he shrugged.

"I've almost given up on him ever remembering my name," Clara sighed while pulling the drawer open and reaching in for an envelope, which she immediately handed to Marty. "Anyhow, here are the tickets. The event's black tie formal, by the way."

"Like prom," he deadpanned.

"Exactly," Clara chuckled, then suddenly frowned. "Wait, he didn't pimp me out as your date, did he?"

"No," Marty lied.

"Hmm, too bad," the strawberry blonde mumbled, sounding a little disappointed. "I like getting dressed up."

"Good to know," he said before leaving the girl to her work.

As soon as Marty had returned to his office, he grabbed the phone receiver and punched in a now familiar number. It had been a few days since their terrible argument outside of the Comet Club, so he was feeling a little bit of trepidation on calling her. Despite the fact that Rory had extended an olive branch to him that same night, Marty was afraid that she wouldn't be willing to speak with him so soon after the blowout.

"Hello?" Rory greeted, sounding distracted.

"Hey, it's me," Marty answered awkwardly.

"Uh, hi," she replied, surprised. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, except that I feel like a complete asshole for blowing up on you," he apologized.

"You had every right to be pissed at me," Rory assured him, then added. "So I forgive you, but only if you can do this jerk the enormous favor of forgiving her in return?"

"Sounds like a good deal to me," he agreed, relieved to hear that.

"Now that that's out of the way," Rory chuckled, sounding relieved as well. "What do I owe the pleasure?"

"How would you like the chance to meet the newly elected Mayor of Chicago?" Marty asked, cutting to the chase.

* * *

 **Sooo...review? Thanks!**


	11. Insert Awkwardness Here, Redux

11 - Insert Awkwardness Here, Redux

"I honestly don't know what to expect from tonight," Rory admitted to her mother over the phone, frowning at the three dresses hanging from the closet door. "And that's what's impeding me from making a choice on what to wear."

"If you'd just got a webcam like I suggested, you could do a little fashion show for me," Lorelai told her.

"That, or I could make a few bucks on the side as a web model," Rory snorted before coming up with an idea. "Oh, wait! Why don't I use the camera on my cell, then send the pics to you that way?"

"I knew that Ivy League education would come in handy one day," her mother laughed.

"Ha, ha, mother," the younger Gilmore said, rolling her eyes despite the fact that Lorelai couldn't see her.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, young lady," Lorelai playfully chided, then added. "Should I hang up my landline while we do this?"

"Yeah, text me your answer afterward, then I'll phone you after the ball and tell you how it went," Rory agreed.

"Sounds like a plan, Kiddo. Love you, and have fun!"

"Thanks, and I love you, too," Rory replied before hanging up her cordless, placing it down on her nightstand. She then picked up her cell and proceeded to change into the nearest dress, which was a black cocktail dress with spagetti straps. It was simple, but elegant. She stood in front of her full length mirror and snapped the picture, then did the same with the other two dresses. The first of the remaining pair was a shimmering white dress with black and silver flowers sewn into it, which sparkled when the light hit them at a certain angle. The dress also hugged her slim frame in just the right places. It gave Rory the illusion of having more curves than she actually possessed, which was what she loved most about it. The last of the three dresses was the slinky lavender number Lorelai had made for her bridesmaids, saying that Rory (as well as her other bridemaids, who had been Sookie and Liz) should have something nice to wear for more than that one occassion. Like the previous dress, this one hugged her figure in the right places, except it had spagetti straps similiar to the first one. The best of both worlds, one could say.

A few minutes after finishing her little fashion play, her mother texted her reply.

 _[the white one looks best. add those black & white bead necklaces Gigi made u for xmas. luv mom.]_

Rory smiled and sent her thanks, then proceeded to get ready since she had less than one hour before Marty was supposed to pick her up. She had just finished applying her make-up when the door buzzer went off, signalling Marty's arrival. He's a little early, she noticed, glancing at the clock on her way to the intercom. She shrugged it off and pressed the button to let him into the building, then returned to the bedroom where she'd left the beaded necklaces her mother had mentioned in her text. With the many beads in place around her neck, she grabbed her bag from the nightstand and headed to meet Marty at the door.

"You're early," Rory declared, opening the door to find that it wasn't Marty standing there. _Oh, crap!_

"Hey, Rory, what's up?" Jess smirked at her, looking her up and down with an approving eye. "Nice glass beads. They really compliment that dress."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Rory asked with a confused frown.

"Promoting my new book, I'm sure I sent you an e-mail a few days ago," he answered, then motioned to her with his chin. "So why are you all dressed up?"

"Mayor's Inaugural Ball," she replied, then jumped at the buzzer going off again. "Excuse me, I gotta get that."

"Can I come inside?" Jess asked from the doorway.

"Yeah, sure," she waved over her shoulder, while hitting the button for a solid two seconds. "But just for a second because I'm heading out, as you can see."

"Is that your date?"

"Is that your business?"

"Okay, touchy subject," Jess deduced, quirking an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, Jess," she sighed, pressing fingertips to forehead. "You just showed up at a weird time, is all."

"It's a gift," he joked, shrugging.

"I'd look into getting that exchanged, if I were you," Rory rolled her eyes, walking past him to open the door. "If this turns out to be Logan or Dean, I'm going to freaking lose it and go on a killing spree."

"What?" Jess asked, obviously confused by the statement.

"Nevermind," she sighed, then opened the door to find the proper, expected person standing in front of her. "Oh, good, it's you!"

"Uh, nice to see you, too," Marty greeted with a chuckled, stepping inside only to stop at the sight of Rory's unexpected guest. "Oh, hello!"

"Hey, man," Jess nodded, sardonicly adding. "Just so you know, you may have saved several people from getting killed by Rory here."

"Cool, always wanted to be a hero," the other man deadpanned.

"Ignore him, he's insane," Rory told the taller of the two.

Marty frowned at her remark. "Okay..."

"You're not going to introduce us?" Jess suddenly asked, feigning indignation.

"Marty, this is my cousin, Jess," Rory introduced, then turned to her ex-boyfriend standing near her mantle. "Jess, this is Marty."

"Nice to meet you," Marty greeted, holding his hand out.

Jess glanced at the extended hand for a second, then looked between Rory and Marty before gripping it. "Good to meet you, too, Marty."

"Jess..." Rory began, preparing to tell Jess to back off. She really didn't like the way he hesitated on the handshake.

"Well, I guess I should let you guys go to the Ball that Rory mentioned earlier," Jess said quickly, cutting Rory off and shooting her a knowing grin. "I just stopped by, unannounced, to see if Rory wanted to hang out with her _cousin_ Jess while he's in town. Didn't know she already had plans. Probably should've phoned ahead, huh?"

"Rory's actually doing me a huge favor by coming along," Marty informed him, unintentionally cutting Rory off as well. "Anyway, we should get going since it's taking place at the Hilton and we're already pushing it on time as it is."

"Well, I'm off to the nearest Motel 8 for the next few days," the still smirking writer nodded after a short awkward silence, then amiably clapped Marty's shoulder. "You take good care of my _cousin_ tonight, okay, buddy?"

"Sure," the taller of the two men nodded.

And with that, Jess Mariano was gone again, leaving Rory and Marty in another awkward silence.

"He wasn't really your cousin, was he?" Marty asked all of a sudden, sounding as though he already knew the answer to that.

"Let's just go," Rory sighed, grabbing her coat from the closet before ushering him out the door.

* * *

 **That was a fun scene to write.**


	12. Role Reversal

12 - Role Reversal

"You look nervous," Rory stated, checking her coat at the door.

"Nah, it's just that I'm usually a server rather than a guest at this sort of thing, so it's going to take a little getting used to," Marty explained, doing the same with his coat before offering his arm to her. "Shall we?"

"Yes, we shall," she nodded, taking the offered arm before allowing Marty to lead her into the ballroom.

"So, which table are we seated at?" Rory asked, her eyes scanning the room. Marty did the same, trying to figure out the layout of the room. There were several tables surrounding a large dance floor, where a few couples were currently dancing. Giving up on his current method, Marty stopped an usher for information.

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to know which table we're seated at?" Marty asked with a sheepish smile.

"Your names, sir?" He asked with raised eyebrows.

"Martin Harrison and guest for the Thompson Group."

"Table five, over there," the usher informed, pointing to the other side of the room.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," he said before continuing on his way.

Marty turned to Rory. "Well, I found out where we're seated."

"I heard," she chuckled, the two walking towards the indicated table. There they joined two other couples who Marty vaguely remembered, but their names eluded him at the moment. Pleasantries were exchanged as he pulled Rory's seat out for her, then sat down in the next chair. Rory engaged their table companions in conversation, with Marty adding his opinion when asked, and the dinner went by quickly.

"If I forgot to mention this earlier, thanks again for coming along," Marty said when he and Rory were left alone, the other couples having left the table for their own reasons. "Had you said no, I'd probably be stuck here with my boss's assistant."

"It's my pleasure," she smiled.

"You look great, by the way," Marty complimented.

"Thank you," Rory blushed, glancing away. This was a stark contrast to the reaction she'd given him on a similiar comment he'd made four years ago.

A quiet moment was shared between the pair as the band played for the dancers, both of them sitting comfortably watching the other couples dance.

"This all reminds me of my prom for some reason," Marty remarked, breaking their amiable silence. "Well, except for the ushers and waiters, I mean."

"I wouldn't know about prom, since I never went to mine," Rory told him, taking a sip from her champagne flute.

He was surprised by this information. "Really?"

"You know, that guy who was at my place when you picked me up?"

"You mean, your 'cousin' Jess?" He teased.

"Yeah, him," she snorted, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, he was supposed to take me, but then this whole thing happened with his dad and he didn't graduate, so prom ended up not happening."

"That sucks."

"Yeah, but it was a long time ago, so I'm over it," Rory shrugged, swirling the liquid around in her nearly empty glass.

They shared another quiet moment where Marty watched his friend watch the dancers on the floor, a wistful and melancholic aura radiating off her in waves. He didn't like this broody version of his Rory, so Marty decided to do something about changing her current mood.

"Did you want to dance?" Marty asked the brunette beauty, whose azure eyes lit up in delight at the question. "Is that a yes?"

"Um, yeah," Rory nodded, rising from her seat. "Now lead the way, mister."

"Yes, ma'am," he chuckled, rising from his chair as well.

The pair walked onto the floor just as the band began playing a slow song, resulting in the both of them awkwardly standing in front of each other. Finally after mutually wondering how to move forward, Rory took the initiative and stepped directly in front of him, taking his right hand in her left and placing the other on his shoulder. Marty shook his head at himself, then followed her lead by laying his hand on her hip.

"Easy, peasy," she grinned up at him.

"You're lucky that this is just a waltz," he said, swaying with her to the music.

"Why's that?" Rory quirked an eyebrow, amused.

"Because the only other dance I know is the Lambada," Marty joked in his usual deadpan manner.

"Dirty," she laughed, inadvertently pressing closer to him in the process.

Not knowing what else to do, Marty continued to dance with her until suddenly the band switched to a slightly slower song. He was about to excuse himself when he noticed that Rory was all but clinging to him, looking up with an almost begging expression in her blue eyes. Despite being a little confused by her behavior, he relented to the silent request. It was a moment later that Marty recognized the song, though there was nobody singing the lyrics that usually went along with it. Weird song to play at a ball.

"Keep me closer/I'm a lazy dancer/When you move/I move with you," he heard Rory sing-along in a whispered tone, surprising him.

"Andy loves this song," he informed out of habit.

"Excuse me, I need to use the washroom," Rory said all of a sudden, disengaging herself from Marty.

He frowned in concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just feeling a bit light-headed," she said, sending a weak smile his way. "I think I drank a little too much champagne, a little too fast."

"Okay, I'll head back to the table and wait for you then," Marty replied, unsure if Rory had even heard him as she hurried towards the washrooms. _I hope she's okay._

* * *

 **And...scene!**


	13. Cruelty of the Unintentional Variety

13 - Cruelty of the Unintentional Variety

"Well, tonight's been really fun, my earlier lightheadedness not withstanding, of course," Rory said, keeping in step with the taller Marty on their way towards her apartment building, the two of them deciding to get out and walk about four blocks from Rory's neighborhood. "So, thanks for allowing me to act as your escort, Marty."

"It's no problem, I'm just glad that you started feeling better and had some fun," he returned, then wryly added with a smirk. "Though next time, I'd take it easy on the hooch, you lightweight."

"Jerk," she laughed while playfully pushing him, mentally reminding herself not to get carried away like back at the ball. Rory still felt like an idiot for momentarily forgetting the fact that Marty was in a relationship, and internally cringed at the memory of her clinging to him while dancing. If Marty hadn't mentioned his girlfriend when he had, Rory was worried that she might have done something stupid, like kissing him for example. _I'm just glad that he fell for my champagne excuse, or I'd have made an even bigger fool of myself than I already had!_

"Seriously, though," Marty said, bringing her attention back from the short reverie. "I'm the one who should be thanking you, Rory."

"In that case, you're very welcome," Rory replied sincerely, smiling sidelong at him.

The pair continued on without saying anything for about a block, enjoying the familiar amiable quiet before Marty broke it with a question.

"What do you think of Andy?"

To say that Rory was caught off guard was an understatement. "What?"

"What do you think of Andy?" Marty repeated.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you like her?"

"Yeah, Andy's great," Rory nodded, unable to bring herself to lie.

"Cool," he nodded, letting out a relieved breath.

Another quiet passed between them, but this one felt more awkward than friendly for Rory, who chose to break it with a question of her own.

"Why'd you ask me if I liked Andy?"

"No reason," he answered evasively.

Rory considered pressing him further, but decided against it after noticing his thoughtful expression.

"I'm thinking of proposing to her when she gets back," Marty declared suddenly a moment later, causing Rory to stop dead in her tracks. He had once again managed to catch her completely off balance. It was becoming a habit as of late.

"Oh," she whispered, unable to form a more coherent answer than that.

"You think it's a bad idea," he sighed.

"I...I'm just a little thrown, is all," she denied, shaking her head. "I just need a little time to digest this, okay?"

"Oh, okay," he nodded, the two of them continuing down the street.

While Rory walked beside him, she felt something in her break a just little bit. Despite this though, she couldn't bring herself to tell him not to since Rory was determined to show Marty what a good friend she could be. _I can't believe I'm about to say this..._

"Do it," Rory told him, hoping that this was the right decision on her part.

"Do what?" Marty asked, it being his turn to be taken off guard.

"Propose to her," she reminded, while at the same time reminding herself that Marty wasn't intentionally being cruel. Of course, this fact made it that much worse for some reason. "If Andy makes you happy, then you should do it."

Marty brightened at that, smiling wider than Rory could ever remember him doing so in the past. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Rory nodded before realizing that they'd arrived at her apartment building. "And it looks like I'm home."

"Then I must bid you g'night once again, Rory," he said, preparing to leave like he always did at the end of their get togethers.

"Good night, Marty," Rory replied, her voice sounding unexpectedly strained.

"You okay?" Marty asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," she lied, quickly adding at his skeptical expression. "I'm just happy for you."

"Well, don't be too happy, because there's always a chance that Andy will say no," he joked.

"If she does, Andy's an idiot," Rory stated with all honesty.

"Thanks for that," Marty smiled.

"You're welcome," Rory replied, returning the smile with as much effort as she could muster. "And good night."

"Good night," he nodded, then walked off down the street.

When she lost sight of him, Rory entered her building and mechanically made her way up the stairs and into her apartment. She sat down on her couch, grabbing her cordless along the way, and checked her messages, not really listening to any of them until her mother's voice reached her ears. Rory pressed the first button on her speed dial at the reminder to call the elder Lorelai, despite the fact that it would nearly be midnight in Connecticut.

"Hello," Lorelai's groggy sounding voice rasped.

"Mom," Rory whimpered, feeling tears slide down her cheeks.

* * *

 **Next chapter needs a lot of tweeking, so this might be a while. Feel free to put your feet up, relax, and leave a review.**


	14. Return of the Rock Star Girlfriend

14 - Return of the Rock Star Girlfriend

It felt like Marty had been waiting forever but in actuality he'd only been there for about a half hour. Those thirty minutes felt excruciating due to two factors. First was his excitement on seeing his girlfriend again after having spent more than a month apart. The other was the hard plastic bench that he was now seated upon.

"Should've brought a cushion with me," an uncomfortable Marty complained under his breath, once again peeking up at the clock in impatience. As he once again shifted in what would be another futile attempt to get somewhat comfortable, the sudden switch in radio stations from the nearby newsstand caught his attention. The familiar song which was nearing its end caused him to smile.

"And that was the latest single from local darlings, the Ragged Dolls," the DJ stated in that annoying voice that all in his chosen profession seemed to possess. "Who have just completed a twelve city tour on Tuesday night in Denver. Next up, we have-"

"Shit, I missed it," the bleach blonde teenager now attending the newsstand swore before fiddling with the radio dial. "There's got to be something good on here..."

Momentarily amused by the girl's antics, Marty once more shifted into a slightly more comfortable position. He then closed his eyes and couldn't help but smile at the memory of when Andy had first told him about getting her record deal. He'd never seen her so happy in the entire time they'd been together.

"You're grinning like an idiot," a familiar voice stated, breaking his reverie.

"And you're late," he retorted, opening one eye to glance up at a smirking Lexie Keaton.

The brunette band manager plopped down beside him, smacking his thigh in the process. "We got slowed up by a freak storm in Minneapolis, but we're here now, aren't we?"

"Where's the band?" Marty asked, trying to rein in his excitement at seeing Andy after so long.

"Don't you mean, where's Andrea?" Lexie responded, seeing right through him.

"Lexie..."

The brunette pouted, sending a hurt expression his way. "Why do you and Andy always take that tone when I'm trying to have fun?"

"Because your idea of fun usually comes at the expense of others," Andy answered, causing the two to turn in her direction.

"Hey, Babe," Marty grinned, jumping up from his chair to engulf the blonde in a bear hug.

"I missed you, too," she laughed, dropping her bags to hug him back just as hard.

"Well, as much fun as it is to watch you love birds maul each other, I need to get home and take a nice long bubble bath," Lexie stated, picking her luggage to leave. "See you!"

"See you, Lexie," they said in unison.

"Freaks," he heard Lexie mutter while walking away.

"Welcome home, Miss Walker," he grinned, then pressed his lips against Andy's.

"It's good to be home," she said after they seperated, grinning back at him.

"You colored your hair again," he stated, noting the light pink and deep purple streaks in her blonde hair.

"Lex and I got bored in Seattle," Andy explained shyly, twirling one of the light pink locks with her index finger "You like?"

"Yeah, it's very Avril Lavigne of you," Marty teased, knowing how much Andy hated that particular pop star.

"Okay, that's just mean," she pouted.

Just then the teen girl from the newstand took notice of them, interrupting their reunion. "Holy shit, you're Andy Walker!"

"My adoring public," the blonde sighed, sending an apologetic shrug towards Marty before turning to the newsstand girl. "Hey, there! And what's your name?"

"I'm Tamaris," the girl squealed, which made several other people in the surrounding area cringe. "And I'm you're biggest fan!"

While his girlfriend was dealing with her 'biggest fan', Marty felt his cellphone go off and turned away to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me," Rory greeted, surprising him. Marty hadn't heard much from her since after the Inaugural Ball last week. He was starting to get a little worried about her, truth be told.

"Hello, Rory, good to hear from you," he returned, glancing over his shoulder at his busy girlfriend. "What's up?"

"Nothing much really, just finally got some time off from work and I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight," she replied, explaining her recent unavailabilty.

"Any other day, I would, but Andy just got back in town and we're about to head home," Marty informed her, feeling a little guilty for some reason. "Sorry."

"It's fine, Marty," she assured.

"Who're you talking to?" Andy asked from behind him. She had apparently finished dealing with her shrill fan girl, who was currently on her own cellphone, squealing to her friends no doubt.

"Rory," he told the blonde, then turned his attention back to the brunette on his cell. "Still there?"

"Yeah."

"I need a raincheck on tonight," Marty apologized. "How does lunch time tomorrow sound to you?"

"Sounds great," she chirped, sounding cheery. "Now, you guys have fun, and say hi to Andy for me."

"Rory says hi," he told his girlfriend.

"Hey, back," Andy returned, waving despite the fact that Rory wouldn't be able to see her.

"She says hey, too," he informed the other girl, starting to feel dizzy from maintaining two conversations at the same time.

"Well, I'll get out of your hair now," Rory said, unknowingly coming to his rescue. "See you tomorrow."

"See you then," he agreed, then shut his cell to find Andy regarding at him with concern. "What?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, furrowing her eyebrows. "Is there something you're not telling me, Marty?"

"What?" Marty frowned in confusion.

"Oh, relax, I'm just messing with you," Andy laughed, handing him a bag and looping her free arm with his own. "Home?"

"Home," he agreed, the two reunited lovers heading towards the exit.

* * *

 **Just a minor change to the beginning of the chapter. Sorry it took so long to tweek. I got distracted by something shiny.**


	15. Oy, With the Poodles Already

15 - Oy, With the Poodles Already!

Rory had been enjoying a perfectly good sleep before her alarm clock went off, its klaxon breaking through the haze to disrupt her slumber. She reached out and slammed a hand down on the snooze button, then attempted to fall back to sleep. She groggily lifted her head at what sounded like two people whispering, finding it strange that she wasn't at all concerned on who the other people could be.

 _So tired,_ Rory groaned, burying her face back into her pillow. She only had a vague sense that one of the people who'd been whispering at her bedroom door had left, while the remaining person, who was giggling under their breath, padded softly inside towards the bed.

"Try it, and die," she warned, slightly muffled by her pillow.

"But Mom!"

 _Mom?_ Rory frowned into her pillow, wondering why she wasn't more shocked by this. "Shh, trying to sleep here."

"Daddy told me to wake you up," the child whined, shaking her.

"Then you can tell your father that his wife is very annoyed at him," Rory grumbled, sitting up to regard the young girl standing near the bed. "Good morning, Fred."

"It's Winifred, Mother," the girl huffed, glaring at Rory with bright blue eyes. "Fred is a boy's name."

"Yeah, yeah," she chuckled, ruffling her daughter's curly brown hair. "And Jayne's a girl's name."

The blue eyed girl, who appeared to be around eight years old, gave her mother a confused frown. "What?"

"Nevermind," Rory smiled, casually waving her daughter away while rising from the bed.

"Are you feeling okay, Mom?" Winifred inquired, earning herself a questioning look from Rory.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be, Baby Girl?"

"You're kidding, right?" Winifred asked back, pointing at her stomach before running out of the bedroom. "Now hurry up, Daddy's making breakfast."

"Oh, sleep, how I miss you already," Rory sighed with a wonderous shake of her head at the young girl's remark, then grabbed her nearby robe and headed downstairs to join her family.

"Morning," her husband greeted from the kitchen.

"I can't believe you sent our eight year old daughter to wake me up," she griped while taking a chair beside Winifred, who simply grinned up at her. "Coward."

"Grouch," he retorted.

"Freaks," Winifred piped up.

"Fred, be a good girl and grab Mommy a cup of coffee, will you?"

"She's asking for coffee again, Daddy," Winifred told the man cooking their breakfast.

"You can't have coffee, Rory," her husband called out from the kitchen. "It makes you sick, remember?"

"Traitor," she squinted at her daughter, who threw an innocent expression back at Rory. She frowned after suddenly realizing what her husband had just said, confused at the implication. "Wait, why's that again?"

"Because my baby sibling hates it," her daughter informed in a know-it-all voice, pointing at her mother's still flat stomach once again.

"What?" Rory squeaked, delicately placing a hand on her abdomen. "You mean, I'm-"

"Pregnant?" Her husband finished, entering the dining room to place a pair of plates in front of his wife and daughter. "Yeah, I'm afraid so."

Rory felt her breath catch at the sight of her smiling husband, realizing then what was going on. And what was about to happen. _No, not again...it's not fair! This is just cruel!_

"Sweet, you made me french toast," Winifred chirped in delight, deepening Rory's dread. "You're the best, Daddy!"

"You're looking a little green there, Rory," Marty said in a concerned tone, placing a hand on her forehead. "You okay?"

It was then that Rory's eyes popped open, the familiar (and unwelcomed) sight of her bedroom in Chicago coming into focus.

"No, I'm not okay," she whimpered a moment later, her hands clutching the pillow. _I'm not okay at all!_

She let out a deep sigh and reined in her emotions before rising from bed to get ready for the day, trying not to think about her coming lunch with Marty. Of course, this action backfired, because the first moment she wasn't distracted her mind wandered back to that damned dream. It had been on repeat every night ever since Marty had told Rory of his plans on proposing to Andy, taunting the brunette with images of a future that was becoming more and more remote with each passing day.

 _This sucks,_ she groaned on her way out of the apartment. Minutes later, Rory found herself standing outside of Sutton's Bistro, mentally preparing for the coming lunch with her friend.

 _You can do this, Gilmore,_ Rory told herself. _It's not like you're falling in love with him, now is it?_

 _Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, Kiddo_ , Lorelai's voice scoffed in her head.

 _Be quiet, Mom,_ she ordered in annoyance, then rolled her eyes at the notion of arguing with somebody who wasn't even there.

"Oy, with the poodles, already," Rory sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before entering the restaurant.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading and don't forget to review.**


	16. Opposites Distract

16 - Opposites Distract

"Could you get the phone?" Andy grumbled, pulling the sheets from Marty in the process.

"Yeah, sure," he mumbled, then threw a half-asleep greeting to the early caller. "Hello?"

"Hey, little brother," a familiar voice greeted cheerily over the line. "Guess who?"

"What did you do now, Daniel?" Marty asked, instantly awake at the sound of his older brother's voice.

"Nothing," the elder Harrison brother assured, then repeated at Marty's silence. "Really, I didn't do anything!"

"Danny..."

"Well, nothing illegal, anyway," Daniel chuckled, quickly adding. "Just calling to tell you that I'll be landing in Chi-town around two o'clock this afternoon and thought I'd check up on my baby bro before then."

"Okay," Marty said cautiously, still suspicious of his brother's intentions.

"Anyway, I have to hang up now since we're just about to take off, so see you then," his brother replied, hanging up before Marty could say anything else.

Marty hung up the phone and let out a deep breath, glaring up at the ceiling in annoyance. "Crap."

"Please tell me your ass of a brother isn't coming here," Andy groaned, rolling over to throw an arm across his chest.

"Afraid so," he apologized, remembering Daniel's last visit to Chicago.

"That guy'd hit on a hole in the wall if given a chance," the blonde said, making her boyfriend laugh.

"Yeah, he would, wouldn't he?" Marty agreed.

"I'll warn Lexie," she muttered, burying her face into his chest. "What time is it?"

He glaced over at the alarm clock, then answered. "Seven o'clock."

"I have to get up for that radio interview at nine," she whimpered, kissing his shoulder before rising from the bed.

"I could kill Lexie for setting that up, not even a full day after you just got back," he complained, watching her walk towards the washroom.

"Me, too, Babe," she agreed, shutting the door halfway.

"Hey, how about we don't warn her that Dan is coming to town?" Marty joked a moment later, speaking loud enough for Andy to hear.

"That would be mean," the blonde laughed, then stuck her head out. "I like it!"

"Well, I'm going to make breakfast," he informed her, rising from the bed and exitting the bedroom.

"Make me some pancakes, please!" Andy called out.

"Yes, dear," he called back.

The couple shared a quick meal before Andy rushed out the door for her radio interview, leaving Marty to his own devices for the next few hours. He had been tempted to join his girlfriend on her interview, but Marty decided against it. Those booths always made him a little bit claustopobic for some reason. He shrugged it off and set about to do something to kill time until he had to leave and meet Rory for lunch.

It was then Marty suddenly remembered a rather important detail, cursing himself for forgetting about it until just now. He rushed to the bedroom to grab his wallet and then quickly dashed out the door, hoping that there was enough time to head over to the mall before going to meet Rory. Even though Marty had hurried there and back again, he was still late by ten minutes when he entered the restaurant that had become his and Rory's usual meeting point.

"You're late," she chided him with mock anger, making an obvious display of being annoyed.

"Sorry about that," he apologized, taking the seat across from her. "But I have a good reason."

"Oh, really?" Rory quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah, really," he said, then deposited a blue shopping bag on the table in front of them. "Here, this is for you."

She glanced at the bag situated between them, then back up at him. "What's this?"

"Your birthday present," he told her, removing his coat. "Oh, happy birthday, by the way."

"I can't believe you remembered," she whispered in surprise, sounding like she'd forgotten about it herself. She reached forward to snatch the bag, pulling out a small wrapped box. "I wonder what it is?"

"It's a block of cheese," he deadpanned.

"Cool, I like cheese," Rory smiled, playing along with the bit before letting out a surprised gasp. "Oh!"

"You like?" Marty asked, hoping she liked the strange little gift he'd bought her.

"Thank you," she nodded, her bright blue eyes shining in appreciation at the box's contents. "It's wonderful, Marty."

"I don't know about that, but if you like it, then who am I to argue?" Marty smiled, happy at the positive reaction.

"It's wonderful," Rory insisted, gazing at him intently.

"I hate to interrupt," a waitress cut in, breaking up their unexpected staring contest. "But I was wondering if you were ready to order?"

"Uh, yes, I'll have the chicken caesar wrap with fries on the side, please," Rory replied, turning her attention away like nothing had happened.

Marty frowned in slight confusion, then chose to brush the moment aside like the brunette had just done. After Marty had made his order, the pair continued on with their usual routine of talking about random subjects, which led to Marty losing track of the time.

"I still say that the reason behind Drama's continuous interference of Turtle's love life is because he's secretly in love with him," Marty stated, completely and utterly serious.

"And like I said before, I don't watch 'Entourage'," Rory insisted. "I just know the name of the characters because my step-sister keeps going on and on about it whenever we talk on the phone."

"Oh, damn, I've gotta go," he suddenly said, glancing at his watch.

"What's up?"

"My brother's coming into town," he groaned, pulling his coat back on. "I'm supposed to meet him at the airport in about twenty minutes."

"The infamous older brother, huh?" Rory grinned up at him, then continued at Marty's questioning expression. "You mentioned him when we first met."

"Huh?"

"In the hallway," she reminded.

"Still not following," he shook his head, trying not to laugh at her frustration.

"When-" Rory began, then rolled her eyes. "You're just screwing with me now, aren't you?"

"You make it a little too hard to resist sometimes," Marty laughed, then hiked a thumb towards the till. "I've got this, but call me later, okay? We'll all head out for drinks and you can meet Danny. I'm warning you now though, he's a bit of a...flirt."

"Sounds like a plan, and your warning is noted and appreciated," she nodded, then quickly added. "Oh, and thanks again for the fantastic birthday present."

"It's just a watch, Rory," he modestly stated with a little chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"It's not just a watch, Marty," she grinned, holding up the item in question. "It's a 'Hello Kitty' watch!"

"Okay, it's official, you're nuts," Marty grinned back at her, then turned to leave. "Happy birthday and see you later tonight."

"See you later," he heard Rory reply.

A few minutes later found Marty in the back seat of a cab, cursing his brother for cutting his time with Rory short, when his cellphone began ringing.

"Hey, Baby," Andy's voice chirped in greeting, making Marty hesitate for some reason. "Hello? Marty?"

"Hey, Babe," he returned finally, shaking his head at himself in wonder. "How'd the interview go?"

* * *

 **Marty had a brain fart there. LOL**


	17. The Birthday Girl

17 - The Birthday Girl

When Marty had called her to meet him, Andy and the others at the Comet Club at nine o'clock that evening for drinks, the first thing that popped in her head was what had happened last time she'd been there. Rory seriously hoped that those events from almost two weeks ago didn't repeat themselves, because those few days of having to wait for Marty to contact her afterwards were hell.

"Hello?" Rory greeted, answering her cellphone that had been vibrating in her coat pocket.

"Hey, Kiddo," her mother greeted in a cautious tone, like she was afraid that Rory was going to fall apart again. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Mom," she assured. "Though I am surprised by you not calling me at four o'clock this morning-"

"For the fabulous story of your birth," she finished, sighing in apology. "Sorry about that, Rory, but your brother has this terrible ear infection and I just kind of slept in because I was exhausted. Forgive me?"

"Well, since you did have a really good reason, I guess so," Rory said, then added in a louder voice due to the music blaring from the Comet Club half a block away. "I've gotta go now, but give Billy a kiss for me and I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Why is it so loud all of a sudden?"

"I'm just coming up to the Comet Club for drinks with Andy and Marty," she answered, then winced at her slip up. She hadn't meant to mention either of them, knowing that her mother would bring up the post-Inaugural Ball phone call from last week.

"Is it a good idea for you to be hanging out with them?" Lorelai asked with concern. "Because you were pretty broken up last week."

"Look, Mom, last week was an abberation," Rory denied as she came to a stop, feeling a little guilty for lying to her mother. "I had a little too much to drink and I wasn't quite feeling like myself at the time. That's all."

"Rory..."

"Drop it, Mom," she pleaded.

"Fine, but only because it's your birthday," the older Gilmore relented, her tone telling the younger that she was not happy about it. "Just so you know though, we're far from done with this subject."

"Okay," she sighed, grateful for the reprieve. "Love you, good night."

"Love you, too, Babe," Lorelai replied. "Good night."

Rory let out a breath, closing her cellphone in relief and shoving it into her jacket pocket. She glanced ahead at the neon sign above the entrance, then took another breath to steady herself.

"Unto the breach," she muttered to herself, then pressed forward towards the club. Rory had just reached the front door when she felt somebody grab her by the elbow. She turned to find a familiar face looking back at her. "Oh, hey, Lexie."

"It's about time you got here," Lexie groused, tossing a cigarette onto the cement and stamping it out. "I was getting so fricking bored!"

Rory quirked an eyebrow in amusement. "Where's everybody else?"

"Inside," the band manager answered, adding with an annoyed sigh. "Marty's dipshit brother is here."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Not a fan?"

"The dude doesn't give up," Lexie groaned. "No matter how many times I tell him no, he just doesn't get the message. Even after telling him that I'm a lesbian, he still tries to get in my pants!"

"Really?" Rory giggled.

"Yeah, he says he's a cure for lesbianism," the other brunette cried, then looped her arm through Rory's. "Be my girfriend for the night?"

"Well, this has to be one of the weirder birthday presents I've ever received," she joked, wondering if Lexie was being serious.

"It was worth a try," Lexie sighed, leading her inside the club. "Just don't leave me alone with him, okay?"

"He's that bad?"

"Yeah, he is," Lexie groaned again, throwing her head back. "How a nice guy like Marty is brothers with that lech is beyond me!"

"Okay, now I'm getting a little worried," Rory said in mock concern.

"I bet this is payback for booking that interview this morning," she complained.

"Probably," the reporter agreed, trying really hard not to laugh.

The two young women stepped inside past a burly looking bouncer with linked arms until finally joining up with Marty, Andy and four guys at their table, none of whom Rory recognized.

"Hey, guys," Lexie greeted, pulling Rory forward to stand in front of the group. "Look who I found outside!"

"Oh, so this is the birthday girl," the guy sitting nearest Marty perked up, almost leering at Rory. "Daniel Harrison, at your service."

"Rory Gilmore," she introduced herself, feeling a little bit on the spot. She glanced back at Lexie, scowling slightly at the other girl for tossing her into the lion's den. The band manager shot an innocent smile at Rory. "Nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you. Or rather, I should say that I've been warned."

"Ooh, spunky," he grinned, rising from his seat.

"Shut up and sit down, Dan," Marty interjected, his posture telling Rory that his brother was already getting on his nerves. He turned to Rory, his expression apologetic, then gestured to the nearest open seat next to Andy.

"Hey, Andy," she greeted, sliding next to the blonde. "How are you?"

"I'm drunk," the singer stated with a slight giggle, quirking her head to the side. "And you?"

"Still sober," Rory replied, noticing how Dan was still making eyes at her. _Oh, boy,_ Rory thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. _He's starting to remind me of Colin._ It's no wonder why Marty looks anything but thrilled about his brother being here. McCrae was probably the only guy he actually hated more than Logan.

"We'll have to do something about that now, won't we?" Andy declared, practically dragging a surprised Rory out of her chair towards the bar. "That means you, too, Keaton!"

"Yeah, yeah," Lexie grumbled, following after the pair.

 _Why do I get the feeling that I'm going to regret this?_ Rory wondered, suddenly flooded with a sense of dread.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. Now drop a review then move along to the next chapter please.**


	18. In Vino Veritas

18 - In Vino Veritas

"Um, guys, it's almost closing time," Marty said, the oddness of seeing his girlfriend and the girl he had wanted so badly in college hanging out like this wasn't lost on him. It was a little surreal, actually. _I wonder what they've been talking about all this time?_

"Just a second, I'm almost done my story," Rory said with a slight slur, holding a finger up to Marty before switching her attention back to her audience, who consisted of Andrea, Lexie and Lorne, their bartender. "So there I am, trying to wake him up with my end of...that tie thingie of my robe, and all he does is wiggle his nose, groans, shifts a little and goes back to sleep."

"Then what happened?" Lexie asked with a knowing smirk while glancing sidelong at Marty, confusing him for a moment. _What?_

"I nudged his knee with my slipper, and FINALLY he woke up, looking completely lost," Rory laughed. "After I told my mom this, she refers to him as 'the Naked Guy' whenever he comes up in conversation!"

"Uh, okay, that's enough story time, Rory," a moritfied Marty declared, feeling a bit dense for not recognizing the subject right away.

"I'm not sure if I liked that story," Andy frowned at her boyfriend from her stool, tilting her head to the side as if in consideration. "The knowledge that Rory has seen my boyfriend naked before I did kind of disturbs me. Is there anything else I should know about you two?"

"Oh, I sense some drama," cried Lexie in a sing-song voice.

"As per usual, you sense wrong, dumb-ass," Andy stated, her usual soft Southern accent more pronounced in her current inebriated state. She looked over at her boyfriend just then and winked lazily, letting Marty know that her question earlier wasn't at all serious.

"You're always so mean to me," her band manager whined with a pout.

"Oh, come on, Lex," Andy cried, hugging her best friend so hard they almost both fell off their stools. "You know that I love you!"

"Get off me, you freak!" Lexie chortled, pushing the curly haired blonde away.

"You guys need a cab or two?" Lorne offered after everybody finished laughing at the pair of best friends and their antics.

"That'd be great, Lorne, thanks," Marty replied, then glanced around the now nearly empty club. "Hey, did anybody notice what happened to Dan?"

"Probably found some random chick with low self-esteem to hook up with," Lexie sniped, letting her hostile feelings toward the older Harrison brother be known.

"You know how your brother is," Andy chimed in.

"Sounds like somebody I used to know," Rory remarked, sounding either nostalgic or regretful. Maybe both.

"Anyway, I have a great idea," Andy announced, sliding off her stool to stand on slightly wobbly legs. Marty moved to help steady her, but the blonde waved him off. "Why don't we all head back to the house and continue this birthday party there?"

"I don't know," Marty began, only to be interupted by the blue eyed birthday girl to his left.

"Well, I'm up for it," Rory cried, following the blonde's example of standing up on unsteady feet. "Oh!"

"Whoa, easy there, Rory," Marty stepped forward, instinctively coming to her aid. Unlike his girlfriend though, Rory accepted his assistance and gifted him with a smile when their gazes met. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, thanks," the blue eyed journalist nodded, affectionately squeezing his wrist before backing away. "I'm going to use the washroom. Don't leave me behind, okay?"

"Okay," Marty agreed, returning the nod in kind. As Rory walked away towards the washrooms, he took a moment to enjoy the lingering sensation of Rory's touch. Marty immediately chided himself for doing so, reminding himself that his girlfriend (and possibly soon-to-be fiance, if she said yes to his coming proposal) was standing not even five feet away. He glanced over to see Andy, whose back was turned to him, talking to Lexie and Lorne about the group's arrangements for getting home, and his stomach tighten at the disgust he felt towards himself. _God, I must have drinken a lot more alcohol than I thought if I'm letting Rory get to me like this again! And knowing her, she probably doesn't even real-_

"You look troubled, little brother," Dan said, showing up out of nowhere to clap Marty on the shoulder. "What's the matter? Those tequila shots trying to escape?"

"Yeah, I think so," Marty lied, licking his lips. For the first time in a long time, Marty was actually relieved to see his older brother. He didn't like where his inebriated thoughts were going before the older Harrison brother re-appeared. "Hey, where'd you go? Everybody thought you ditched."

"I had to take care of something scatological in nature," Dan explained, hiking a thumb back towards the men's washroom.

"Okay, enough said," he replied with a shake of his head, immediately catching his brother's drift. _I probably shouldn't have asked anyway!_

"I think I need more fibre in my diet," his brother continued unabated.

"I really don't want to hear about your intestinal problems, so please be quiet," Marty begged.

"Alright, alright, sorry," Dan chuckled, lifting a hand up in fake apology. "Anyway, I just met that hot little friend of yours on the way back from the washrooms, Lil' Bro. Her name's Rory, right?"

"Don't," he stated in no uncertain terms.

Daniel apparently caught what he meant, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "And why not?"

"Because, like you said, she's my friend," Marty said, looking down on his shorter (albeit not by much) elder brother in what was meant to be an intimidating fashion. "And the last thing Rory needs is my ass of a brother making a pass at her, simply intent on adding her as just another notch on his belt."

"Well, this is certainly turning out to be an interesting visit," Dan noted aloud, shooting a knowingly smirk his younger brother's way.

Marty glared at his brother and began to move forward, his hands clentched into fists. "Back off, Dan, or-"

Just then, Rory showed up and stepped between the brothers, preventing an angry Marty from attacking a still smirking Daniel. "Is there a problem here, guys?"

"I don't know, Rory," Dan said, wrapping an arm around her before meeting his brother's scowling face. "Is there a problem here, Marty Bones?"

He glanced between their faces, then at the arm around Rory's shoulders. He frowned at his brother's arm, then at the young woman's face again. When Rory didn't tell Dan to remove it, Marty just shook his head.

"Marty?" Rory and Andrea asked at the same time, though their tones were different. Rory seemed apologetic, while Andy just sounded confused at the sudden tension she had walked in on.

"Whatever, do...whatever you want," he sighed in resignation, shaking his head before turning away. "Come on, Andy, let's go home."

"Wait? Is that a negative on the after party then?" Lexie could be heard asking as an annoyed Marty and a perplexed Andrea walked out of the Comet Club.

* * *

 **You know the drill. Thanks!**


	19. The Cautionary Tale of Daniel Harrison

19 - The Cautionary Tale of Daniel Harrison

 _I knew coming out tonight was a mistake,_ Rory sighed, watching her best friend and object of affection walk out the door. His disappointment was obvious, like Marty expected better from her. Better than Daniel, his screw up of an older brother anyway. Knowing that he felt that way made Rory queasy. It was either that, or the copious amount of alcohol she had ingested since arriving at the Comet Club several hours beforehand. Probably both, now that she thought about it.

"Now what, Birthday Girl?" Lexie asked, startling the journalist slightly. "And why the hell is that creep's arm around you?"

"Moment of temporary insanity on my part," Rory answered, trying to shrug Dan's arm off her shoulder.

"And a little experiment on mine," the older Harrison brother added with a grin, taking the not-so-subtle hint and dropping his arm down to his side. "Anyhow, who's up for an early breakfast? I'll buy."

"As tempting as that sounds, I think I'll just go home and sleep," Lexie replied dryly, her tone telling everybody in earshot that she was not at all tempted by the offer. "And you, Rory?"

"Actually, I could use a coffee right now," she admitted, then turned to the smug looking Daniel Harrison. "Don't get the wrong idea though. I'm just going along for the coffee. Nothing less, nothing more."

"Understood, Birthday Girl," he nodded, then swept his hand out in an exaggerated gentlmanly manner. "Shall we?"

"See you later, Lexie," Rory said, hugging the band manager whilst ignoring the smirking ass-hat that was to be her early breakfast companion.

"Be careful, I don't trust him," Lexie said in her ear.

"I'll be careful," she promised before leaving the Comet Club with Dan. The two were mostly silent as they walked along the street towards the nearest all night diner, which happened to be four or five blocks away. In fact, it was just down the street from the brunette's apartment building, so Rory decided that she'd simply go home after drinking her coffee.

"Ladies first," Dan offered, holding the door open for her before following her inside. The pair sat down in the nearest open booth, where the man across from Rory ordered himself an atypical breakfast consisting of eggs, toast and hashbrowns. The waitress poured them each a cup of sludge that barely passed as coffee before leaving them to their business.

"This is some of the worst coffee I've ever had," Rory stated, having already taken a sip from her cup, nose scrunching up in disgust. "And believe me when I say that this is saying something in itself."

"I've had worse, though not by much," the older Harrison brother agreed, sniffing loudly after following suit. He straightened in his seat, then regarded Rory with an unusually serious expression. "So...?"

Rory frowned, wondering what was up. "So?"

"Are you in love with my brother?" Dan finished.

"Excuse me?" Rory choked out, her eyes widening in panic at the question.

"I'll take that response as a yes," he nodded, taking another wincing sip from the disgusting coffee. "Damn, I've drinken whiskey that has less kick than that stuff. I wonder if it's flammable?"

"Am I really that transparent?" Rory asked, not bothering to try and deny his conclusion. Truth be told, she was tired of denying it. Most especially to herself.

"Not really, I just recognize the signs is all," Dan answered, gently pushing his cup of sludge away. "In fact, I was in your position once with this girl, let's call her Julia. Anyway, she and I were best friends. For the longest time I was madly in love with her, but didn't say anything out of fear of losing her friendship. Unfortunately for me, when I finally did confess my feelings to her, Julia said she didn't feel the same. Her feelings for me were more in the brother catagory. That was a crushing blow, and I ended up screwing up the most important non-family relationship I had. I waited too long, and lost her."

Rory frowned, "Why are you telling me all this? Especially if it turned out so badly for you?"

"Because, despite my reputation as a creepy womanizer, I'm really a romantic at heart," Dan stated, running a hand through his dark hair. "But if anybody asks, tell them I tried my hardest to get a BJ from you."

"You're disgusting," the journalist snorted, seeing through the act.

"Adorably so, I hope," he smirked.

"You hope," she chuckled, pleasantly surprised by the man sitting across from her. They spoke for sometime after that, where Rory learned that while Daniel was indeed a bit of a pig, he was also entertaining as hell to have a conversation with. After finishing her putrid cup of coffee, she rose to leave, thanking Dan for the late night (or early morning, depending on the point of view) coffee.

"So, you gonna tell him?" Dan asked, still sitting with his now half-empty plate of in front of him.

"I don't really know," Rory admitted, starting to finally feel tired from how strange this night had turned out. "I really don't know if I should."

"I get that, but if you do decide to tell him, don't wait too long," he advised, sipping from a glass of water that the waitress had deposited earlier.

"I want to tell him, believe me, if just to get it off my chest, but I also don't want to ruin what Marty has with Andy, you know? From what I've seen so far, they're a really great couple."

"Oh, they are a great couple, but as much as he'd deny it, the fact is that I know my little brother. Marty wants to settle down and start a family," he said, his usual levity gone as he continued to speak. "And while I have no doubt Andy wants to be the girl to fullful that desire, I don't think it's gonna happen once her inevitable superstardom comes a knocking."

"I hope you're wrong," the journalist said with sincerity, even if it meant that her own heart would get shattered into a million pieces in the process.

"Me, too," Dan agreed, nodding. "Because if anybody deserves the fairy tale ending, it's my little brother."

Not knowing what else to say or do, Rory simply nodded in agreement before turning to leave the older Harrison brother to his early breakfast. Just as she reached the door, she turned around and walked back to the table. He glanced up from his breakfast in surprise, having already assumed she'd left.

"Whatever happened to Julia?" Rory asked, curious.

"Happily married with two kids," he answered, smiling sadly. "So I wouldn't dally about if I were you, Miss Gilmore."

When Rory arrived at her empty apartment and got into bed, she attempted to fall asleep to no avail. The night was spent staring up at the ceiling, Dan's words swimming in her mind's eye to prevent slumber from taking hold, despite her ever growing fatigue. She rolled onto her side and watched the sun come up, then decided trying to rest was a lost cause now and rose from the rumpled bedsheets. Glancing at the Hello Kitty watch that Marty had given her, she noticed that it was just after nine o'clock, meaning Rory had spent the last four or five hours tossing and turning.

"Screw it, I'm telling him," Rory annouced to no one in particular, already knowing that she was bound to lose Marty one way or another if she continued to stay silent on how she felt about him. _At least this way, I have a chance. A tiny, infinitesimal chance, but a chance none the less, right?_

A half hour after showering and making herself halfway presentable, Rory stood on the doorstep of the boy she once considered too boring and too nice to get involved with back in Yale. She debated again on the wisdom of her current actions, then steeled her resolve once more before pressing the doorbell.

"I must still be a little drunk if I'm actually doing this," Rory muttered, then straightened out at the sound of the door being opened. And of all the rotten luck, it was Andy who was greeting her.

"Um, hi, Andy," Rory began, feeling like a first class bitch for what she was about to do, then stopped suddenly when the blonde lifted her left hand up to reveal a sparkling diamond ring.

"I'm getting married," Andy squealed, jumping forward to embrace the shell shocked brunette, seemingly unaware that the journalist was on the verge of completely breaking down at that instant.

 _Oh, my God,_ a heartbroken Rory thought, relunctantly returning the ecstatic blonde's celebratory hug. _I'm too late!_

* * *

 **Damn.**


	20. Bittersweet Proposal

20 - Bittersweet Proposal

The trip home was quiet, neither saying much of anything. They entered their townhouse, walked upstairs, and each got ready for bed. They lay there side by side for about five minutes before the blonde finally broke the silence.

"Mind telling me what that was all about?" Andy asked.

"Not particularily," Marty grunted, staring up at the ceiling.

"Martin Alexander Harrison," his girlfriend intoned seriously, rolling onto her side to face him. Even in the gloom of their bedroom, he could feel those jade irises burrowing into him. "I'm not letting this go, so you can either tell me what's going on, or you can spend the night in the guest room with your brother if and when he gets back. Or the couch. Your choice. Either way, speak up, or get out."

Marty let out a loud sigh before simply stating, "Rory and Dan."

"What about them?"

"He's no good for her, and I really thought she'd see that," he elaborated, then shook his head at himself. "Then again, Rory's never had the best taste in guys, you know?"

"Actually, no, I don't," Andy stated, resting a hand on his chest. "You never really told me much about her."

"Back in Yale, she dated this guy who was completely wrong for her," he explained, letting out another sigh before continuing. "The guy was a playboy, cheated on her numerous times, but she stuck with him. Gave him chance over chance, for some damned reason, and I never really understood why."

"You liked her back then, didn't you?" Andy asked, seeing between the lines like always.

"Yeah, I did," Marty admitted, not seeing a reason to lie about it. That was all in the past now anyway, wasn't it? "The whole thing put a huge strain on our friendship for the longest time."

"That only partially explains why you were so up in your brother's grill at the Comet Club though," his blonde girlfriend said, nudging him along to continue.

"Up in his grill?" Marty frowned, turning his head to face her. "Do people actually still talk like that?"

"Quit stalling," she stated.

"I just thought Rory knew better, and I'm disappointed that I was wrong. Add in the fact that Dan likes to press my buttons, and things almost got out of hand there," he muttered, rolling on his side so that he was now facing the blonde fully as well. "But now that I've said all that, I'm starting to feel guilty about it, and it all just sucks-"

"Monkey nuts?" Andy finished.

"Yeah," he agreed with a chuckle.

The blonde placed a hand on his cheek, caressed it lovingly. "You're a good person, Martin Harrison, and I'm lucky to have found you."

"No, I'm lucky I found you," he replied, taking her hand in his own so he could kiss her fingertips.

"You're damned skippy, mister," Andy joked, closing the distance to kiss him softly. "Now let's get some sleep."

"I love you," he stated.

"I love you, too," she returned, cuddling up against him.

In what seemed like an instant later, the blonde was conked out. Marty lay there staring at the ceiling without any real coherent thoughts in his head before he finally passed out as well. He awoke to find Andy sprawled out in an awkward position at the edge of the bed, precariously close to falling off. He reached over and pulled her back, simulantiously attempting to wake her in the process.

"Ah'm drownin' in swimwear," she drawled in that sexy Southern accent of hers, obviously still half-asleep.

"I'm going to take a shower," Marty informed her, mouth next to her ear. "Did you want to come with?"

"Raincheck, don't wanna move right now," she mumbled, curling herself up into a ball with all the covers around her slim body. "Luff ya, now go 'way."

"Okay, your loss," he chuckled, finding her extremely cute at that moment. Fifteen minutes later, feeling squeaky clean and substancially less groggy from last night's alcohol related activities, Marty exited the washroom with just a towel around his waist to find his girlfriend sitting on the bed, staring down at her hands. Thinking that Andy was just trying to shrug off her hangover, he walked past his rock star girlfriend towards the dresser for some clothes.

"Yes," she announced mysteriously, confusing him.

"Yes?" Marty frowned before turning to face her, not quite knowing what to expect. "What are you talking about?"

"I'll marry you," Andy clarified, opening her hands to reveal the felt case that contained the engagement ring he'd purchased several weeks ago. "The answer is yes."

"Where-"

"I was looking for a pair of those wool socks you sometimes like to wear before I headed downstairs to make coffee, and that's when I found it," she interupted, her expression apologetic. "I'm sorry if I ruined whatever plans you may have made, but my answer is still yes."

"Really?" Marty asked, relief and happiness washing over him.

"Really," Andrea confirmed, standing up to walk over to throw her arms around his waist. "I want to be Mrs. Martin Alexander Harrison."

"Oh, thank God," he whispered, pulling her close against his body. "I thought for sure you'd say no."

"I'd be an idiot if I had," she laughed into his chest, returning the tight embrace. They separated for a moment, Andy holding her left hand out as Marty shakily slid the engagement ring onto her finger. "Perfect fit," his girlfriend (now fiance) stated, viridian eyes shimmering. Just then, the doorbell rang to announce the arrival of an early morning visitor.

"Okay, who the hell could that be?" Marty grumbled, not liking the fact that somebody had the nerve to interupt the happiest moment of his life thus far.

"I'll get it, since you're pretty much naked," a grinning Andy said, then tipped toed to kiss him before slipping out of the bedroom.

"Oh, like you're one to talk," he chuckled under his breath, referring to the blonde being clad only in pajama pants and t-shirt. A moment later Marty heard his fiance's happy squeal echo throughout the house. _Must be Lexie,_ he concluded with a wry smirk, pulling on the last of his clothes and heading downstairs, only to stop on the landing when catching sight of their Sunday morning visitor. "Rory?"

"Oh, hey, Marty," the brunette reporter greeted with a limp wave, looking a little lost while standing alone in the foyer. "Your fiance just ran off into the kitchen to make some coffee."

"Andy loves her morning coffee," he said, feeling extremely lame for saying that.

"She's definitely a keeper then," Rory returned with a weak smile, awkwardness coming off of her in waves. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Um, thanks," Marty nodded, wondering at her strange behavior. "What brings you here on a Sunday?"

"I just came to tell you, um," she began, licking her lips thoughtfully before continuing. "To tell you that I'll be heading back to Stars Hollow for my vacation. My mom wants to see me, and I kind of miss her, as well as little Billy and my step-sister April, too. If she's there, that is. So, I just thought that I'd come over to tell you since I'm leaving right away and won't be reachable for the next week or so."

"Look, Rory, about last night-"

"We're cool, Marty," she interupted, shaking her head. "I know you were just looking out for me. I really should be thanking you. If you hadn't done what you did, then I might have ended up making your brother into my next douche-bag reclaimation project."

"Logan, version 2?" He joked weakly.

"Yeah, I guess you can put it that way," the reporter chuckled in a noticably forced manner, then hiked her thumb to the door. "Well, I should get going. My flight leaves in about the next hour or so, so I'll just be-"

"Going then," he finished, nodding. "Say hi to your mom for me."

"Will do," Rory nodded back, then turned to leave out the door. She paused and looked over her shoulder at him, her voice sounding strained. "See you when I get back."

"See you then," Marty whispered to the now empty space, the closing door clicking louder than it had any right to. He was tempted to chase after her, demand to why she was lying to him, but he couldn't get his feet to move. Maybe it had to do with that inexplicable expression of hurt in her azure eyes that was preventing him.

"Where'd Rory go?" Andy asked, jolting him back to life.

"Home," Marty answered, trying to shake off the feeling that this was the last time he'd ever see Rory Gilmore. It was a depressing thought, to say the least. "She's going home."


	21. No More Running

21 - No More Running

When Rory arrived at her childhood home earlier in the week, her mother was beyond surprised to say the least. Predictably perceptive to her daughter's current state though, Lorelai simply hugged her in the foyer of the house they once affectionately dubbed the Crap Shack and welcomed her daughter back without question. After stowing her luggage in Rory's old bedroom that was now littered with various toys belonging to her two year old brother William, the mother-daughter combo who were the darlings of Stars Hollow left the house to dine at Luke's. Several reunions blurred by for Rory that first day, and not once did anybody ask why she'd returned. They seemed to sense this was a taboo subject, not to be broached. Rory thanked whichever deity that had granted that small boon to her, because she really didn't know what to say other than 'I'm on vacation'. This wasn't completely true, but it was close enough. Besides, isn't that what sick days were for? To be used when you're just not feeling well?

That first night she had the dream again, the one where a pregnant Rory shared breakfast with her husband Marty and their daughter. The damned thing had been on repeat for weeks now, so the last few nights had been no different. Rory was beginning to get sick of waking up disappointed when it came to an end.

 _I'm really starting to hate that dream,_ Rory sighed, opening her eyes to find herself laying in her old bedroom. She sat up in bed, blinking the sleep from her eyes, and listened to the eerie silence of her childhood home. Curious as to the reason for the lack of noise in a home where a three year old boy usually resided, the reporter decided to investigate and shrugged the covers off before rising up for her fifth day back in Stars Hollow. She exited the bedroom that had once belonged to her and entered the kitchen to find a note sitting on the table, which informed Rory on the whereabouts of her entire family.

"So, they're all at the diner," she stated lowly, then headed into the downstairs washroom to make herself presentable. Just as she pulled her hair back into a casual ponytail, Rory gazed at her own blue eyed reflection and immediately saw the little girl from the dream staring back, forcing the reporter to fight back an unexpected sob. It took her almost a full minute to regain her composure. When she did though Rory proceeded to finish doing up her ponytail, this time more careful not to let her guard down. The dreams were bad enough, but lately she was being harrassed by a daughter who would most likely not even have a chance of existing now that Marty was engaged to Andy. That didn't seem to bother the girl though, who continued to plague Rory left and right since the journalist first saw that gorgeous diamond ring sparkling on the rock singer's finger six days ago. So much so that the younger Gilmore girl was beginning to worry about her sanity.

"I am starting to really hate that damned dream," she groaned, rubbing her cheeks.

"And which dream would that be?" Jess asked from behind her, causing the brunette to shriek loudly in fright. "Whoa, settle down there, Ror!"

"What the hell is wrong with you, Jess?" Rory yelled, turning around to awkwardly attempt to strike him. "Don't you know how to knock?"

"This is my uncle and aunt's house, so knocking is unnecessary," he explained, easily parrying her pathetic blows. "Who were the ones who told me to come and check on you, by the way."

"You're infuriating as ever, I see," she muttered, straightening out her t-shirt. "What are you doing here anyway? I thought I heard Luke say you weren't coming back to Stars Hollow until Thanksgiving, or something."

"That was the original plan," he admitted, grinning sheepishly at her. "But my girlfriend-"

"Girlfriend?" Rory asked, her head popping up in surprise.

"Yes, girlfriend," Jess snorted. "She wanted to come here to pick up some of her stuff from her parents' house be-"

"Your girlfriend's from Stars Hollow? Oh, please tell me you're not back with Shane, Jess," she groaned, disappointed.

"No, I am not back with Shane," the hooligan-turned-writer replied, sounding somewhat offended by her conclusion. "Why would you even say something like that?"

Rory shrugged, "She's the only girl that came to mind."

"Even if I was back with her, what gives you the right to judge?" Jess quizzed, eyebrow quirked. "Last time we were together, you called me your cousin so your date wouldn't get suspicious, remember? And the time before that you tried to use me to get back at that cheating blonde dickhead you were dating at the time, so I do-"

"Fine, I'm sorry," she snapped, feeling fresh tears sting the edge of her eyes. "I get it, okay? I'm a selfish, judgemental bitch, and I get it!"

"Rory," he whispered, shocked at her sudden outburst. "I didn't-"

"Don't, Jess," she whispered, sensing that Jess was about to reach out to her. "Just don't, okay? I don't deserve any sympathy. I brought this on myself."

"Brought what on yourself, Rory?" Jess asked, concerned and curious.

"I treated him so badly back then, crushed his heart twice," the reporter continued at a near rasp, letting everything she'd been holding in all out at once. "It's no wonder why he's moved on, why he got engaged to his rock star girlfriend. All I've ever done was ignore him, hurt him, choose someone else over him time and time again. Only when I knew I couldn't have him...oh, God, it's like when Dean got married all over again! What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Shh, it'll be okay, Rory," Jess assured as he knelt beside her on the bathroom floor, where Rory had all but fallen during her tirade. "It'll be okay."

"No, it won't," she cried softly, hugging her knees. "I almost repeated one of my biggest mistakes. Before I learned Marty proposed to his girlfriend, I was heading to his house, the house he shares with this girl, this fantastic girl whose done nothing but be friendly to me since we met, to tell him that I'm in love with him! I was planning on stealing him away from her! I mean, who does that? When did I become that girl who takes without thinking on how it'll effect other people? Suddenly I'm that girl again, and I hated being that girl! I worked really hard not to be that girl anymore!"

"Now look here, Rory," the author said, taking hold of Rory by her face to gently force her to met his gaze. "I know you're in a dark place right now, and you feel like shit for what you almost tried to do, but the only way you cannot be that girl is if you choose not to be her. So choose not to be her, Rory. It's as simple as that."

"I don't want to be that girl anymore, Jess," she whimpered, looking down.

"Then don't be that girl," Jess insisted, pulling his hands away to stand up straight. "Now get up and stop feeling so damned sorry for yourself." Rory flinched at his bitter tone, but remained rooted in her spot. "Ah, jeez, I can't believe I'm the one who always has to do this," he muttered under his breath before the journalist could hear the faucet going, which was followed by the sound of a cup being filled. She figured Jess was grabbing some water for himself and thought nothing more of it until the distinct sensation of cold water struck the reporter square in the face.

"Ahh, what the f-" the shocked reporter all but shrieked, jumping up from the floor sputtering. "Are you insane?"

"You needed a wake-up call, and words weren't working," he explained with a shrug, casually tossing the plastic tumbler into the sink. "So..."

"So you throw a cup of cold water in my face?" Rory cried in disbelief, glaring at him.

"It got you off the floor, didn't it?" Jess smirked, rendering the brunette speechless for a moment. "Now get a move on, Gilmore, 'cause everybody's waiting on you."

And without any further pre-amble, her ex-boyfriend (now cousin by marriage) casually strolled out of washroom, leaving a slightly wet Rory standing alone to mull over what had just happened. She shook her head and chuckled. _Leave it Jess to help pull me out of my funk._

Later on that night after Luke and William had gone to bed and when it was just Rory and Lorelai sitting in front of the television watching Conan O'Brien's new show, the formerly heartbroken journalist came to a decision and chose to share it with her mother. "I'm going back tomorrow."

"You gonna fight for your man?" Lorelai asked, shifting in her seat on the couch to face her daughter. Rory followed suit to stare at her mother, and noticed for the first time how youthful Lorelai still appeared despite being nearly forty five years of age. Rory hoped she would age with even half the grace her mother seemed to be. "Rory?"

"He's not my man, Mom," she replied, shaking her head. "I may be in love with him, but that doesn't mean Marty's mine to take. So I'm going to do what I should've done in the first place. I'm going to be his friend and support his relatationship with Andy."

"Even if it guts you in the process?" Lorelai asked with an odd expression of pride reflecting in her eyes.

"Even if it guts me in the process," she confirmed with all the conviction she could muster at the moment. "No more running."

"That's my little Malcolm Reynolds," her mother teased while gently running a hand over Rory's hair in a reassuring fashion.

"Actually, I've always been more a fan of River than anybody else," the younger Gilmore girl quipped, immediately getting the reference. She leaned back into her previous position, then smiled sadly to herself as Conan was finishing his monologue on TV. _If I can't be Rory Harrison, wife and mother, then I'll settle for Rory Gilmore, friend and confidant. It's better than nothing, right? Right?_


	22. Things That Start With the Letter D

22 - Things That Start With the Letter D

It was a little after ten o'clock in the morning when Marty made his way out of bed, deciding to sleep in for a change. It was a Sunday anyway, so resting was more or less a demand from up on high, and who was Marty to disobey such a command? Dressed only in his joggers and t-shirt, the architect wandered downstairs into the kitchen to grab himself a coffee and bagel as was his customary Sunday morning breakfast. When he reached the coffee machine, Marty found a pre-sliced bagel waiting on a small dish with a note from Andy pinned to it.

 _[Morning, sleepy head! Meeting Lexie and the guys to discuss moving new tour to March after the wedding. Coffee's ready, just hit the 'on' button. Sorry, but you gotta toast your own bagel though. Love you, baby! Yours, always. Andrea Harrison]_

"Andrea Harrison, hmm?" Marty smiled, liking the way that her new name slid off his tongue. After doing what the note said, Marty took the message and was about to toss it in the drawer where they stored several of the many other little notes written to each other over their three years together, when he noticed more writing hastily scribbled on the back.

 _[Oh, yeah! Rory called. She gets back tonight and wants to treat us to a congrats dinner sometime this week. I'll leave the details to you, babe.]_

"Huh," Marty frowned, wondering at the odd mix of relief and apprehension that this news brought him. He shook his head and decided not to dwell on it, choosing instead to read the sports section of the Tribune while eating his light breakfast. After finishing both his food and reading material, the tall architect stood up and headed into the living room in search of the rest of his paper.

Upon entering the living though, Marty was surprised to discover that Andy had left her beloved Yamaha P-200 keyboard sitting on top of the coffee table. _We really need to buy that thing its own stand or something, because that coffee table is going to snap under its weight one of these days,_ the architect thought, then snorted in amusement at the memory of when Andy had first shown him the instrument after buying it.

 _"You paid how much for it?" Marty had asked in shock._

 _"Six hundred dollars, plus my beaten up old Toyota," the blonde announced with pride._

 _He frowned at her, shaking his head in disbelief. "You traded a working vehicle for this?"_

 _"Hey, these things usually cost around two grand, so I think I got a pretty good deal, mister," she defended. "Besides, that Toyota was on its last legs and I can always catch rides with you to wherever I need to go now that we're dating."_

 _"If you say so," he shrugged before taking hold of the item in question to carry the thing to his truck. "Damn, this thing is heavier than it looks!"_

 _"You drop that and we're totally over, mister," the blonde warned with a laugh._

 _"My back is really feeling the love here, Andrea," he complained, lugging the purchase into the tiny 'backseat' area of his Ford Ranger with moderate difficulty._

Returning from his reverie with a wistful sigh, Marty sat down on the couch in front of the keyboard and began to absently hit random keys. He was mildly surprised to find the instrument still on before playing a smattering of something classical that he couldn't remember the name of, smirking at how easily his fingers recalled the lessons that his old piano teacher, Miss Baumgardner, had installed in him back in high school.

He glanced up at the ceiling, his thoughts wandering no place in particular until for some reason Marty remembered the almost broken expression on Rory's face before she left to visit her family, and also remembered feeling guilty because somehow the architect knew he'd been responible for it. He took a deep breath, then placed his fingers on the keys again and began to play the first song that sprang to mind.

 _'A drop in the ocean,_  
 _A change in the weather,_  
 _I was praying that you and me might end up together._  
 _It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert,_  
 _But I'm holding you closer than most,_  
 _'Cause you are my heaven.'_

 _'I don't wanna waste the weekend,_  
 _If you don't love me, pretend._  
 _A few more hours, then it's time to go._  
 _And as my train rolls down the East coast,_  
 _I wonder how you keep warm._  
 _It's too late to cry, too broken to move on.'_

 _'Still I can't let you be,_  
 _Most nights I hardly sleep._  
 _Don't take what you don't need, from me.'_

 _'Just a drop in the ocean,_  
 _A change in the weather,_  
 _I was praying that you and me might end up together._  
 _It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert,_  
 _But I'm holding you closer than most,_  
 _'Cause you are my heaven.'_

 _'Misplaced trust and old friends,_  
 _Never counting the regrets,_  
 _By the grace of God, I do not rest at all._  
 _And New England as the leaves change;_  
 _The last excuse that I'll claim,_  
 _I was a boy who loved a woman like a little girl.'_

 _'Still I can't let you be,_  
 _Most nights I hardly sleep,_  
 _Don't take what you don't need, from me.'_

 _'It's just a drop in the ocean,_  
 _A change in the weather,_  
 _I was praying that you and me might end up together._  
 _It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert,_  
 _But I'm holding you closer than most,_  
 _'Cause you are my...'_

 _'Heaven doesn't seem far away anymore no, no,_  
 _Heaven doesn't seem far away._  
 _Heaven doesn't seem far away anymore no, no,_  
 _Heaven doesn't seem far away...'_

 _'Aoooh..._  
 _Aoooh...'_

 _'A drop in the ocean,_  
 _A change in the weather,_  
 _I was praying that you and me might end up together._  
 _It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert,_  
 _But I'm holding you closer than most,_  
 _'Cause you are my heaven,_  
 _You are my heaven...'_

"That's a rather curious and melancholic choice for someone in your position," Dan remarked, surprising his younger brother. "And for some reason, I can't help but wonder if a certain blue eyed reporter is behind this little display."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Marty denied rather defensively, not liking how close to the mark the older Harrison brother had hit. "And shouldn't you be on your way to the airport by now, you ass-hat?"

"Oh, I was, but halfway there I realized that I'd forgotten something," Dan shrugged, walking over to the recliner to sit down. "But let's get to that later. What I'm wondering right now is why you stopped playing, because you were always so damned good at it."

"Dad," said Marty in a hostile tone.

"Oh, right, he always said you were wasting your time with the piano, didn't he?" Dan nodded, leaning back in the armchair. "I can't believe you listened to the bastard, especially when it turns out that he's not even your real dad and all."

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me of that bit of information," Marty grumbled, narrowing his eyes.

"Hey, don't look at me like that," his brother said, arms raised in surrender. "It's not my fault Mom screwed around on Dad with Uncle Jerry, though I can't really blame her. Dad's a dick."

"Yeah, I suppose," Marty conceded, not really able to argue with that fact.

"Anyhow, before I head back to good ol' California, I wanted to give you this," Dan said, reaching into his jacket to produce a vanilla colored envelope. He held it up to a now standing Marty, who took it with a skeptical expression on his face. "It's a little engagement present from your loving big brother."

"Should I be worried?" Marty joked.

"Yes, but not about the gift," Dan retorted, smirking up at him.

He frowned back, a little annoyed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Marty, Marty, Marty," his older brother sighed, rising from his seat while shaking his head as if in bewilderment. "For someone with an Ivy League education, you can be awfully thick sometimes, you know that?"

"You can leave now," the younger of the two muttered, not liking where this conversation was heading.

"Alright, fine," Dan said with his arms up in capitulation, moving towards the door. "See you at your wedding, Lil Bro."

 _Finally, I'm rid of him!_ Marty thought in relief, releasing a breath that he didn't even realize he'd been holding.

"Speaking of which," Dan said, popping his head around the corner to startle Marty with his sudden reappearance. "Are you sure you're marrying the right girl?"

"Get the hell out of here!" Marty snapped, finally having enough of his brother's crap. He chased Dan until he reached the door, stopping there to watch the older Harrison boy hastily enter a cab and drive away. He slapped his hand against the doorframe, angry at letting Dan get under his skin like always, and tried to forget his sibling's parting words.

 _Of course, I'm marrying the right girl_ , Marty insisted to himself while re-entering the townhouse, slamming the door shut with far more force than necessary. _Why the hell would he ask me that?_

* * *

 **Special thanks goes to Iscah McKrae, who helped me decide on the song (Ron Pope's 'A Drop In the Ocean') when I couldn't make up my mind. Thanks, girl, you rock it hardcore style! Like, with a rake and a jar of mayonaisse! That's how hardcore you rock!**

 **Anyhow, reviews are appreciated. Thanks.**


	23. The Ironic Taste of Coffee & Ice Cream

23 - The Ironic Taste of Coffee & Ice Cream

"Save and close, then we're done," Rory muttered to herself, having just completed her latest article on the new mayor and his plans for the future of Chicago. She leaned back in her seat and thought back to how she managed to score a private interview with the mayor, especially when the newly elected politician had reputedly been refusing every other major news media outlet thus far. What was even more surprising was the fact that he'd asked for her by name, stating that the only way he would agree to an exclusive interview with the Tribune was if Rory was the reporter at the helm of the story. She had wondered why before and during the interview, but refrained from asking until actually having done her job. Turned out that the mayor's college aged daughter remembered meeting Rory at the Inaugural Ball last month. The girl was impressed by the reporter and advised her father to grant Rory an exclusive after reading some of her previous work with the Tribune, particularly her pieces to do with the Ragged Dolls. The irony that Andy was unintentionally aiding Rory's career while simultaneously stealing the man she loved was not lost on the reporter.

 _Then again, you can't really call it stealing when Marty wasn't really mine to begin with_ , she thought while pouting slightly at the photo that acted as her computer's background. Rory touched the screen and gently glided her fingers over the image of her and Marty sharing a coffee outside the offices of the Yale Daily News while in some deep conversation on a now long forgotten subject. Despite wondering where Paris had gotten the picture and why the blonde had decided to e-mail the thing to her in the first place, Rory had immediately made it her desktop without any sort of hesitation. The reporter drew her hand away, frowning to herself. Was her best friend trying to tell her something? It took Rory a moment to remember that this was Paris Geller, the girl with the subtly of a sledgehammer to the back of the head. The journalist rolled her eyes at just now realizing the message, but she chose to ignore the well-intentioned doctor's not-so-subtle nudging to go for the gold. The 'gold' being Marty in this case. _Sorry to disappoint you, Dr. Geller, but I'm not that girl anymore. I'm not going to make the same mistake with Marty that I did with Dean, thank you very much._

"In either case, I should probably change that desktop sometime soon," the reporter thought aloud, deciding that sitting here staring longingly at that image was bordering beyond the realm of pathetic. She stiffled an unexpected yawn while lazily closing the laptop, azure eyes rapidly blinking in a bid to hold back fatigue fueled tears. She rose from her desk chair and walked into the kitchen in search of coffee, momentarily surprised that she felt so tired at a quarter after seven in the evening. After finding none in her cupboards though, a caffeine deprived Rory decided to head to the nearest place that sold coffee in order to take care of her fix immediately. Unfortunately for Rory, that place happened to be the dingy excuse for a diner that Marty's brother Dan had taken her on the night of her birthday. Desperate times called for drastic measures though, and this definitely classified as a desperate time. A Gilmore girl without her coffee? Oh, the humanity!

A few moments later the reporter opened her door with the intention of leaving only to find Marty standing there with a takeout tray of coffee in one hand and a plastic bag in the other, looking more or less the same level of surprise that Rory felt at that instant.

"How'd you do that?" Marty asked, his expression one of bewilderment. "I literally just got here. Spooky."

"Actually, that is kind of spooky, because I was just heading out for coffee," she nodded in agreement, then pointed at the tray of coffee in his right hand. "Speaking of which, are one of those for me?"

"Yeah, take the tray," he replied, a knowing little smile on his lips. "You got caught up in your writing again, didn't you?"

"You know me too well, Mr. Harrison," the brunette laughed, taking the tray from him before spinning on her heel. Marty followed her inside the apartment and shut the door behind himself, then made his way into the living room where Rory was sitting down on the couch, trying to drink her hot liquid caffeine fix as fast as humanly possible.

"Careful, you're going to burn yourself," he warned, taking the space on the opposite end of the reporter. The tall dark haired architect placed the plastic bag on top of her coffee table, then proceeded to remove a tub of ice cream onto the mirrored table top. "Luckily for you though, if that does happen, I've got the remedy." Marty turned towards her, eyebrows raised. "You got a pair of bowls and spoons, right?"

"Kitchen," the reporter motioned with her head, both hands still gripping the Starbucks takeout coffee tightly while watching him leave the room. "Um, I don't mean to sound rude or ungrateful, especially after you brought me such wonderful gifts, but what brings you here?"

"Well, I was sitting home alone at the house, bored out of my mind, and began wondering what you were up to," he answered, re-entering the room with the items grasped in his hands. "And then I realized that it's been forever since you and I just hung out and vegged in front of the TV."

"It's nice to be thought of, I guess," Rory shrugged, secretly touched that Marty wanted to spend time with her even though he had a gorgeous fiance at home. She frowned in confusion, suddenly wondering at the mention of being holed up in the townhouse by himself without anything to do. "Wait, where's Andy?"

"Her and the band booked some studio time downtown and will most likely be at it all night," Marty replied, handing the brunette a bowl and utensil before he ripped the lid off the ice cream tub. Stopping halfway in his action, Marty slowly turned to her with a concerned expression on his face. "Um, it is okay for me to be here, right? I'm not intruding on any plans you might have had, am I?"

"Yeah, John Mayer was coming over for some hot and heavy one-on-one action," she joked, rolling her eyes playfully. "You can stay and watch if you want."

"I'll stay, but I think I'll just sit here and watch some television instead, if that's okay with you," the architect deadpanned. "Try to keep it down though, okay?"

"I can make no promises," Rory quipped, then held her bowl out to him. "You plan on sharing some of that stuff with me, mister?"

It was a few hours later that Rory suddenly jerked awake, a little confused to find Marty dozing down the couch from the reporter with her feet resting in his lap. The memory of why he was there brought a little smile to her lips. It reminded her of all the times they shared like this back in Yale. Her smile faltered though when the journalist began to wonder if this was how it was for Marty all those years ago, looking on with silent longing while the object of his affection was blissfully unaware of how madly in love he was with her. How many nights had he been where Rory is now, wishing that things were different between them? That they were lovers instead of just friends?

For the second time in as many minutes, Rory found herself jolting up in her seat, only this time because the relative silence of the room was broken by the very loud ringing of the reporter's telephone.

"Could you get that, babe?" Marty groggily asked, his eyes still shut as he shifted in his seat in an attempt to get more comfortable. "Turn down the ringer, too, please."

 _Must think he's at home with Andy,_ the reporter deduced, sighing in disappointment at the thought. Reaching over to the table located behind the couch where the cordless was usually kept, Rory picked up the receiver and answered on the third ring. "Hello?"

"Hey, have you seen Marty? He's not answering his cell, and I can't find him," the now almost familiar voice of Andrea Walker asked over the line, sounding a little worried to Rory.

"Yeah, he's right here," the reporter muttered, nudging her guest's thigh with her left foot to wake him up. "Hey, sleepy head, your fiance's on the phone."

"What? Oh, right, thanks," Marty sputtered, looking completely bewildered and foggy from his unexpected nap on Rory's couch. He took the receiver after Rory shook it in front of him. "Oh, hey, babe, when did you get home? Oh, we were just watching some movies and fell asleep."

Feeling like she was intruding on his conversation, Rory removed her feet from Marty's lap and rose from the couch to begin cleaning up the mess made by their impromptu movie night. After Rory had gathered everything and mustered up a smile for Marty, the ever graceful hostess then headed into the kitchen with her burden. She placed the bowls and spoons into the sink, then threw the half-melted remnants of ice cream and empty coffee cups into the trash bin. With that finished Rory leaned back against the counter top to stare up at her ceiling, unintentionally letting out a tired sigh.

"You alright?" Marty asked, catching the brunette offguard. "Rory?"

"I'm fine, Marty," she said with a weak chuckle, brushing back and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Still just a little tired, I suppose."

The tall charcoal haired architect seemed to accept that answer, much to Rory's relief, then hiked his thumb towards the door. "Well, I've gotta get going, because Andy's waiting for me at home. See you later though?"

"See you later," she promised, somehow managing another smile.

"Okay then," Marty smiled back, waving to her before turning around and heading towards the exit. She followed him to the door, that forced smile still plastered to her lips. Once he was in the hall, Marty turned to face her with a smile of his own. "Guess this is goodnight, huh, Rory?"

"Guess it is, Marty. Good night," Rory returned, closing the wooden portal on the young man who'd unintentionally captured her heart. The reporter pressed her forehead against the door and let out another sigh, beginning to wonder if she'd actually be strong enough to fulfill her promise of supporting Marty's relationship with Andy. _Please, please, please let me be strong enough_ , she prayed to no one in particular.


	24. His Choice Made, He Strides Forward

24 - His Choice Made, He Strides Forward

"Honey, I'm home," Marty announced while stepping through the front door of their shared townhouse, the architect having just arrived from another day at the office to be greeted by the familiar blaring of music.

"In the kitchen," his fiance called out, her voice barely audible over Ida Maria's Oh My God. He entered the room to find Andy leaning against the island counter with her back to the door. Marty stopped to admire the view of her long legs for a moment, which were on full display thanks to the short faded denim skirt she had chosen to wear.

"Hello, beautiful person," Marty greeted after recovering from his brief stupor, walking up behind Andy to wrap his arms around her waist and rest his chin on her shoulder. "What'cha doing?"

"Nothing much really," she answered, lifting her free hand up to caress his face while kissing Marty's cheek. The blonde smiled brightly at him before returning to her previous activity. "Just finishing up a list of people to invite to our Engagement-slash-New Year's party."

"Hmm, let's see here," he muttered, casually scanning over the names that Andy had already listed. His fiance had around thirty or so names jotted down on the writing tablet, which was pretty thorough he had to admit. Lexie, Rory, Rob, Lorne, and the band were all included. His brow furrowed as he glanced over the list again, noting again one name in particular. Frowning at the unfamiliar sensation of jealousy stirring in his stomach, he forced it down before deciding to bring up this potentially awkward subject. "Why is your ex-boyfriend's name on here?"

"Because your fiance is a genius and has a plan," the blonde grinned, turning around in his embrace to bring her arms up onto his shoulders.

"Oh, I know that look," the architect said, laying his hands lazily onto her hips. "What are you up to, missy?"

"Well, I will tell you my ingenius plan," she began, then started to sway as Wild Horses by the Sundays began to play. "But first you have to dance with your fiance, Mr. Harrison, because you know she loves this song."

"Talking about yourself in the third person is a sure sign of mental instability," he teased, resulting in Andy giggling and playfully slapping his chest. "So abusive."

"Oh, please, we both know you like it rough," the blonde retorted, resting her head against his chest. "Now, hush up and dance with me, baby."

Despite wanting to continue their banter, Marty instead chose to be quiet and just enjoy the feel of this gorgeous woman in his arms. The soon-to-be married couple swayed in unison to the music, and for that moment in time nothing else mattered to either of them except the person in their embrace. As the song was nearing its end, brown eyes met green before they both closed the gap in a searing kiss that left them each wanting more. The blonde quickly disengaged herself from Marty and pushed him back against the breakfast nook, then backed away slowly towards the door leading into the living room. She gazed at him with obvious desire, and began to undo her black button down blouse while continuing her egress. When Andy's back came into contact with the swinging door, she stopped to quirk an eyebrow at him as her shirt fell to the floor.

"Come and get it," Andy drawled with a smirk before exitting the kitchen. Marty swiftly followed after the slim blonde, his tie already discarded and fingers working on undoing the buttons of his own shirt.

"Okay, just out of curiosity," a slightly disheveled Marty breathed several minutes later, his equally disheveled blonde wife-to-be cuddling up against him on the couch they had just made passionate, albeit mostly clothed, love atop of. "What the hell were we talking about before we got distracted? Something about a plan?"

"An ingenius plan," she corrected with a grin. "Part of which was letting you see my ex's name on that list, by the way."

"You're diabolical, Miss Walker," Marty deadpanned, rolling his eyes at how easily he'd fallen for the seductive blonde's trickery.

"I know, right?" Andy laughed, running her hand through his curly hair. "Anyway, as I was saying, my plan is this; why not set my ex-boyfriend up with your former crush?"

He frowned, skeptical at the idea. "I don't kn-"

"From what you've told me about her and what I've seen for myself, I think they'd be perfect for each other," she cajoled, not letting him finish. "I mean, Lexie told me he's still single, while Rory is..." Andy stopped mid-sentence, her brow furrowed. "Wait, Rory's single, right?"

"As far as I know," the architect stated with all honesty, a tad uncomfortable. All this sudden talk about the girl who'd been the source of his recent doubts was disconcerting to say the least, especially when Marty considered what he and his fiance had just done only a few minutes ago. He nodded after a short moment of introspection, silently relenting to his fiance's matchmaking scheme.

"Then that settles that," Andy stated with a slight squeal, smiling widely at him. She kissed him softly on the lips before rising from the couch to begin pulling her skirt back down into its proper position. Marty watched his fiance in wonder, internally kicking himself for allowing his brother's words to cause the architect to doubt the love that he held for this incredible woman standing in front of him. Their gazes met once again, the half-dressed blonde looking at Marty with amused confusion. "What?"

"I love you," Marty stated in no uncertain terms, deciding then and there to re-devote himself fully to his future with Andrea. It was long passed time to let go of fruitless endeavors anyway.

* * *

 **Yeah, things aren't looking too favorable for our Nudists now, eh?**

 **In the next chapter, Rory learns that destiny has a really twisted sense of humor when she attends Marty and Andy's Engagement & New Year's Eve Party Extravaganza! Wow, that was quite the mouthful, huh?**

 **Anyway, REVIEWS are very much appreciated. Thanks.**


	25. Engagement Party Blues

25 - Engagement Party Blues

 _This is so depressing,_ Rory sighed to herself, watching various people wander around the second floor of the Comet Club (which Lorne had closed off to the public for his friends' private party) to congratulate Marty and Andy on their engagement. Out of all the guests who had shown up, the reporter only recognized Lexie, Lorne and, of course, Andy's band, the Ragged Dolls. Everybody else present though were complete strangers to her. This caused her to frown at the realization that her circle of friends was severely limited. It was very reminiscant of her last year in Yale. Her frown deepened at that thought. She glanced over at where the happy couple was talking to one of the many strangers, wondering to herself when it would be considered polite to leave. She was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed.

"Pretty girl like yourself shouldn't frown so much, or you'll end up with wrinkles before you know it," an unfamiliar voice remarked, catching the sullen brunette's attention. "At least that's what my mother used to say."

"Your mother used to call you a pretty girl?" Rory asked, turning to face the stranger who'd spoken to her.

"Okay, maybe I didn't quite phrase that correctly," the middle-aged man chuckled, a rueful smile on his lips. He held his hand out to Rory. "Anyway, I'm Robert Stevens. I work with the groom-to-be. Actually, I work above him, but that's not all that important right now. And you would be...?"

"Rory Gilmore," she smiled back, shaking his hand. "I'm a friend of Marty's."

"It's good to meet you, Miss Gilmore," he nodded, pausing for a moment as if in consideration. "You wouldn't happen to be in the market for a job, would you?"

"Uh, what?" Rory asked in surprise, her baby blues popping out. _Is this guy propositioning me?_

"Well, my assistant Clarice up and quit on me a few weeks ago, so she could go back to school out east or something," he explained, relieving the reporter to no end that his offer was something this innocuous. "Though I suspect that she did it just to be closer to her new boyfriend, too, but that's besides the poi-"

"Robert, there you are, darling," interceded a statuesque auburn haired woman, who looked like she just walked off a modeling shoot before coming here. She gave Rory an apologetic smile. "Sorry if my husband is bothering you, miss. I swear, I'm thinking of buying him a leash one of these days."

"Now, Kelsey, let's not give this lovely young lady the wrong idea," he chuckled. "Rory, this is my gorgeous wife, Kelsey. Honey, this is Rory Gilmore, a friend of Marty's."

"Well, any friend of Martin's is a friend of ours," Kelsey smiled warmly, then turned to her husband. "Darling, we really should be leaving soon. We promised Riese we'd be home before midnight, remember?"

"Well, fatherly duty calls," Rob said, turning back to the reporter. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Rory. Now if you'll excuse us, we must be off. Good night, and have a happy New Year."

"Happy New Year to you, too," Rory returned, her spirits slightly lifted by her brief encounter with Rob and his wife. What a friendly couple.

"I see you've met Rob and Kelsey," Marty noted from beside her, startling the reporter by his sudden appearance. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you."

"No, it's okay," Rory shook her head, feeling sheepish. "I was just a little distracted is all." She forced herself not to fidget, hoping that Marty wouldn't notice. "Um, great party, by the way."

"Yeah, Andy and Lex sure know how to plan these things," he said before giving her a concerned look. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," she lied, annoyed at herself for failing to hide her nervousness.

"Come on, Rory," Marty insisted.

"Okay, fine, you got me," the journalist sighed, knowing that she'd been caught. The truth was that Rory had been avoiding the tall architect for some time now, but Marty didn't need to know that. He didn't need to know that almost every one of her waking thoughts were of him, that he was the only man Rory wanted to be with. Telling him would be an extremely bad idea and only cause trouble for everybody involved. So she decided to do the only two things she could think of, which was misinform and apologize. In other words, lie her butt off. "I'm feeling bad about being unreachable since our little movie night a few weeks ago. I've just been swamped with work, holiday shopping and other stuff, you know? So, I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize, Rory, I know exactly where you're coming from," he nodded in understanding, swallowing her blatant fallacy. "It's been crazy hectic for Andy and I, too. What with all the wedding planning and Christmas stuff and whatnot. Besides, I kind of figured it was something like that, just making sure."

"Speaking of your fiance, where did she go?"

"Here I am," a cheery sounding Andy announced from behind the reporter, capturing both Rory and Marty's attention. "And I brought somebody along...oh, damn it, where did he go now? I'll be right back."

The pair watched the musician wander off to where Lexie was speaking with a tall blonde man who seemed vaguely familiar to Rory for some odd reason, though she couldn't quite place him because the lighting was poor in the spot he and Lexie were standing.

"Oh, crap," Marty muttered, as if only now remembering something.

Rory glanced back at him, curious. "What?"

"I guess it's my turn to apologize, but just know that I completely forgot that she was doing this," he pleaded in an almost comical fashion. "So please don't kill me, okay?"

"What?" Rory repeated with a slight squeak, her curiosity turning to concern. "Why? What's going on?"

As Marty was about to answer, his fiance reappeared with the familiar blonde man in tow, effectively cutting the architect off.

"Rory, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine from Charlotte," Andy began, grinning from ear to ear. "Allow me to intro-"

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," the journalist interrupted, the musician's plan quickly becoming apparent to her. And of all the people to be set up with!

"It's been a while, Mary," the blonde man greeted with a cocky smirk.

"Hello, Tristan," Rory frowned, instantly annoyed.

* * *

 **Oh, oh, we're halfway there! Oooh, oh, living on a prayer!**

 **You're still here? Get going to the next chapter! And don't forget to review!**


	26. Matchmaking Gone Awry

26 - Matchmaking Gone Awry?

 _Mary? Why the hell is Tristan calling her 'Mary'?_ Marty thought, a little perplexed by the nickname that the blonde man had given the reporter. _And just how the hell do they know each other anyway?_

"It's been the better part of ten years and you still insist on calling me that?" Rory frowned, her initial annoyance with Tristan now turned into something more akin to disappointment. "So pathetic."

"You wound me with your words, Miss Gilmore," Tristan gasped in mock hurt, hand held up to his chest. "Why, if I was not such a forgiving soul-"

"And here we go," Andy and Rory groaned at the same time, like they expected this sort of response from him. The two women shared a glance and smiled at each other, as though in understanding. Marty found this momentary repoire between the two a tad disconcerning, but decided to simply shrug it off.

"Okay, that wasn't at all creepy," commented Lexie, unknowingly echoing Marty's earlier thought while inviting herself into the conversation. "Now, what did I miss?"

"Apparently, Rory and Tristan here know each other," the blonde answered, smirking at her ex-boyfriend's shocked expression. "Right, Trissy?"

The reporter quirked an eyebrow at the blonde man, clearly amused at his reaction to being called by this moniker. "Trissy? Really?"

"I gave him that nickname!" Lexie cried out with a proud grin, her hand lifted up in the air.

"And you wonder why we never dated, Keaton," Tristan griped at the bubbly brunette.

"We never dated because you were a giant man-whore when we first met, Dugray," the band manager retorted. "And I've made it my perogitive never to date man-whores and douche-bags ever since that cheating jackass Rodney back in the eleventh grade. Luckily for you though, Andy wasn't so discriminating on who she dated in college. She truly was a dumb blonde back then."

"Did you just take a snipe at me, too?" Andrea scoffed, shoving the laughing brunette. "Traitorous whore."

"Oh, you know I only snipe at you out of love," Lexie said while patting the blonde girl's arm in a condescending fashion, then hiked her thumb at the other blonde in their little group. "Trissy, on the otherhand, I eviscerate for fun!" The brunette then turned to smile at Marty with an overly sweet expression on her face, which made the tall architect nervous all of a sudden. "Besides, you've got yourself a wonderful new gentleman at your beck and call now, Miss Walker soon-to-be Harrison!"

"Okay, before this conversation veers too far off course and tumbles even further into the realm of absurdity," a slightly uncomfortable and impatient Marty interupted, his curiosity on how his girlfriend's ex-boyfriend knew Rory finally getting the better of him. "How do you two know each other?"

"We went to Chilton Preparatory Academy together," Rory answered simply, adding with a casual shrug. "Well, before Trissy got himself sent off to military school in North Carolina, a third of the way into junior year, that is."

"Which is where we met," Lexie piped up, then quickly ammended. "At the University of North Carolina, I mean, not at military school. I mean, can you imagine me in a military school?"

"With your total lack of discipline and self-control, I'd have to say no," Andy stated, sticking her tongue out at her best friend's shocked expression.

"Well, as much fun as this trip down memory lane is, I could use another drink," Tristan declared, his nearly empty held up for all to see. "Anybody wanna come with? Mary?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I'll pass," the reporter stated, her attention shifting over the balcony to gaze over the crowd on the ground floor below them. With this single simple action, a bored looking Rory had effectively thrown a wrench in the matchmaking scheme that Andy had devised. It was quite clear that she was not at all interested in Tristan, which surprised Marty since the blonde man seemed to fit her usual dating criteria to a tee. The guy was cocky, obnoxious, immature and, as much as Marty was loathed to admit it, intelligent. Hell, he was simply a taller and more likable version of Logan, only without the constant need to show people that he comes from a wealthy background, or the insufferable brainless lackeys following him all over the place to feed his already over-inflated ego.

 _Now that I think about it, Dan could easily be put in some of those catagories, too,_ Marty realized with a frown, not understanding why Rory hadn't already thrown herself at the tall blonde. She had seemingly been drawn to his annoying older brother during Dan's visit a few weeks ago, so what had changed between then and now? What was he missing here?

"I'll go with you, Tris," an over-excited Lexie squealed, her sudden high pitch jolting the architect from his meandering thoughts with a wince. "I need a new one myself as well."

"Fine, let's go, Keats," the tall blonde sighed before offering his arm to the bubbly brunette, who latched herself onto Tristan like an overzealous child would. "Ow, not so rough!"

"Oh, don't be such a whiny bitch," she chided playfully, then waved at the group. "TTFN!"

"That girl should come with a warning label of some kind," Marty commented with a shake of his head, brown eyes watching the pair approach the bar. He turned his attention back to his fiance, who was now watching Rory continue her bored vigil over the crowd dancing down on the main floor. Seeing that Rory looked deep in thought and probably didn't want to be disturbed at the moment, he decided to attract the concerned blonde's attention by laying a hand on her slender shoulder. "Babe?"

Tearing her eyes from the brooding brunette, Andy glanced at him. "Yeah?"

"Dance with me?" Marty asked, his hand now held out for her to take.

"Well, if I must," she joked, a lithe hand slipping into his grasp and allowing Marty to lead her down onto the dance floor. Despite the fact that the DJ was playing an up-tempo song, Andy flung her arms onto his shoulders and remained close to her fiance as they swayed accordingly to the music. He could tell that something was bothering the curly haired blonde, but refused to try to get her to talk about it. Andy would only do so when she was ready, which just so happened to be after the song ended and the couple were halfway back up the stairs to rejoin their friends. "I think I pissed Rory off."

"No, you didn't," he assured the blonde, even if he wasn't completely sure if that was true.

Andy frowned, "Then why is she all broody?"

"Rory is probably just missing her mom right now, who she's very close to," reasoned Marty with a shrug. "And seeing as she's a long way from home and it's the holidays..."

"Guess that explains why she always seems so lonely and withdrawn as of late," she sighed, her brow furrowing slightly in thought. "But my meddling can't have helped matters."

"It'll be fine, babe," Marty smiled, convincing himself that his explanation was correct. He reached out and took hold of her hand once again. "Come on, let's get back to everybody. It's almost midnight, and I'd like to ring in the New Year by making our engagement public knowledge."

"Now that sounds like a great plan, darling," Andy beamed, obviously liking the sound of that. As the soon-to-be married couple approached where they had last left Rory standing alone, they found their other brunette friend there all by her lonesome instead. "Hey, where are the others?"

"Rory got a call on her cell while you were away, and Tristan just left to go check up on her," answered Lexie, leaning lazily against the balcony rail. "They're probably both freezing their asses off on the outside balcony as we speak."

"Well, it looks like my matchmaking may not turn out to be such a bust after all," Andy assumed with a triumphant smirk.

"Guess not," Marty agreed, trying to ignore the knot that had formed in his stomach.

* * *

 **Reviews are not only appreciated, they're demanded! Thanks for reading**.


	27. Auld Lang Syne

27 - Auld Lang Syne

 _And there goes the happy couple,_ a frustrated Rory thought while discreetly watching Marty lead his fiance down onto the dance floor from the corner of her eye, relief washing over the reporter at having a few moments in order to gather her wits. Her gaze shifted downwards of their own accord to fall on the soon-to-be married couple slow dance to a fast song, an action that only succeeded at derailing her train of thought once again. Deciding that Marty and his fiance were too big of a distraction at this exact moment in time, Rory grabbed her long black coat from the back of her chair and headed towards the windowed door leading onto the outdoor balcony for some semblance of privacy. Once she got outside the journalist found that there were only two other people braving the cold, both of whom went back to ignoring Rory after a brief glance at her in favor of their lit cigarettes. She figured they'd re-enter the club once they were finished smoking, which suited the reporter just fine since solitude had been her most immediate goal.

"Please still be awake," Rory pled into her cellphone, which had been removed from her pocket along the way outdoors. After buttoning her coat closed to protect herself against the chilly winter air, Rory walked over to the sturdy looking steel railing and absently laid her free hand on the cold metal and gripped it while waiting for the person on the other end to pick up. She pulled her hand from the railing after a few moments, the odd sensation of more or less frozen wrought iron coming into contact with bare skin causing her to grimace. "That was cold."

"Usually how it goes in winter," one of her companions told her in amusement while holding the door open for their fellow smoker before re-entering the building himself, leaving the reporter standing alone on the balcony.

"Thanks for that, Captain Obvious," she muttered, turning away to inspect her hand. "Okay, next time I do that, I'll have to remember to wear gloves."

"If I were your mom, I'd be saying 'dirty' right about now," an unusually chipper sounding Lane Van Gerbig greeted, her sudden voice and the blaring music in the background briefly startling her childhood friend. "Oh, Happy New Year, by the way!"

"You sound awfully cheery for being up at nearly one o'clock in the morning," Rory replied with forced humor, even if she was happy to be speaking with her oldest and dearest friend. "Are you guys having a party?"

"Yeah, Mama offered to take the kids for the night, so Zack and I decided to have a few people over, but that's unimportant right now," Lane explained with sudden seriousness, immediately noticing the distress in the other girl's voice. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I just very nearly got my hand stuck to an iron rail," she lied, already beginning to regret this phone call. The last thing she wanted to do was burden Lane down with her problems when the young mother actually had some free adult time to herself. "That and I just wanted to say, 'Happy New Year', you know?"

"Come on, Rory, this is me you're talking to, remember?"

"It's nothi-"

"Hold on, I can barely hear you. I'm going to find someplace a little more quiet so we can talk," interupted Lane, the sound of a door being opened and closed telling Rory that the short Korean woman had just done that since the music in the background diminished to a more tolerable level than when the reporter had first called. "Okay, now spill, Gilmore. Tell me what's going on, because it's been way too long since we last talked."

"Yeah, sorry about that," apologized Rory, realizing only now that it had been close to three months since the last time she called Lane. "I've just been swamped with work and...stuff."

"Stuff, huh?" Lane snorted, no doubt wearing a knowing little smile. "It must be pretty serious stuff if you're calling me instead of your mom."

"Mom told me not to come here tonight," she admitted, deciding to come clean. "And now I'm really starting to wish I'd listened to her."

"And where are you right now?" Lane pressed.

"I'm at Marty's engagement party," she informed with a sad sigh.

"And Marty's the guy you like, right?"

"I don't think I can do this anymore, Lane," Rory said in strained tone. "I mean, I'm trying to be a good friend to him. I'm really, really trying, but it gets harder and harder to be around him. I don't just like him, Lane, I'm in love with him! But now it's too late, I'm too late. He has Andy now. Beautiful, leggy and talented rock star Andrea Walker! I don't know what to do, Lane!"

"Okay, first off, you have to calm down," Lane advised.

Rory nodded, then took a deep breath. "Alright, now what?"

"Yeah, that's as far as my plan went," her best friend admitted. "Sorry."

"Aren't you just a huge help," Rory said with an ironic chuckle, which quickly died when she turned to find Tristan standing there with a surprised expression on his face. "Lane, I'll call you back, okay?"

"Rory, what's going on?"

"Sorry, I have to go," she apologized, hitting the end button without waiting for a reply.

"Hey," Tristan greeted, casually flicking the ashes from his half finished cigarette.

"Hey," Rory returned lamely, unable to meet his imploring gaze. "So I take it you heard all that?"

"I only came out for a smoke," he said with a noticably forced smirk. "What I may or may have not overheard is inconsequential."

"Good to know that my feelings are inconsequential," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Don't put words in my mouth, Mary," Tristan drawled, his cigarette stub falling to his feet for the blonde man to step on it. "Besides it looks as though we're in the same boat here, so the least we can do is try and get along, right?"

"What do you mean by that?" Rory asked back, not quite understanding. The blonde man squinted at the reporter like she'd said something remarkably stupid, which caused her to feel sheepish for not immediately catching on. "Oh, THAT boat," she paused, then nodded. "I hate that boat."

"You're not the only one," her former schoolmate agreed, both of them falling into an awkward silence until Tristan broke it. "Do you want to know what the worst part of all this is though?"

"Not being viewed as threats by our respective so called 'rivals'?" Rory guessed.

"Exactly," he muttered.

"Sucks to be us," she sighed.

"Like a vacuum," Tristan said, then added after another short silence had passed. "It's not all bad though."

The blue eyed reporter met his grayish-blue gaze, curious. "How so?"

"Open bar, compliments of the happy couple," he grinned, displaying the blue wristband that all the engagement party guests were given upon entering the club's second floor. "So what do you say, Mary? Want to ring in the New Year with me?"

"Oh, why the hell not?" Rory smirked, deciding that this distraction may actually do her some sort of good. At the very least, it could help take her mind off Marty for a little bit. "Lead the way, Dugray."

"That's the spirit, Gilmore," Tristan said, returning the smirk in kind. She allowed him to guide her towards the door back inside when he began to chuckle under his breath.

She stopped to regard him, again curious. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he assured.

"Tristan," she pressed, unconvinced.

"Okay, if you must know, Mary," relented the blonde man, his hand grasping the door handle to open and hold it for her to walk through. "I was just wondering if I should be adding the 'Magdalene' to your nickname now."

"Only if you don't want to live to see the New Year, Trissy," Rory laughed, swiftly breezing by him in order to re-enter the building. She smiled at how ironic it was that Tristan Dugray of all people had momentarily brought up her spirits, only to stop suddenly at the sight of a radiant Andrea Walker in her fiance's embrace as the crowd began the countdown.

"Ten...nine..."

 _'I like Logan,' Rory told him, immediately feeling guilty for hurting Marty._

"Eight...seven..."

 _'Actually, Marty introduced us,' Logan informed Lucy, much to the chagrin of both Marty and Rory._

"Six...five..."

 _Rory had just made her way around the corner near the Comet Club when she caught sight of Marty, and was just about to walk up to make her presense known until she was interupted by a very gorgeous and vivacious blonde, who threw herself into Marty's arms and practically slammed her mouth onto his in a very public display of affection._

"Four...three..."

 _'I'm thinking of proposing to her when she gets back,' Marty declared, referring to the currently absent Andrea, who was out on tour with her band._

"Two...one..."

 _'I'm getting married!' Andy squealed, unknowingly breaking her new friend's heart with the news._

"Happy New Year!"

 _'So I'm going to do what I should've done in the first place,' Rory told her mother. 'I'm going to be his friend and support his relatationship with Andy.'_

"Hey, Mary," Tristan nudged her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"I need a drink," a teary eyed Rory rasped, turning her back from the scene to head directly towards the bar as the crowd began singing the chorus to 'Auld Lang Syne'.

* * *

 **Torturing Rory is fun! I mean, reviews are appreciated. Thanks!**


	28. Wedding Stressed

28 - Wedding Stressed

"Come on, babe," Marty groaned, following his fiance out of the kitchen. "That's not what I meant!"

"Well, it certainly sounds that way to me," the musician cried, her Southern accent coming to the fore in her current state of aggitation like it always did. "You basically just said that I'm not pullin' mah weight in the wedding plannin', Martin!"

"I was just reminding you that we still have a lot of things to do before the wedding," he explained, trying to keep his temper in check. Andy could be so infuriatingly stubborn at times. "I mean, we still haven't finished hammering out the final details with the manager of the Hilton on the ballroom, and you want to take off with Lexie and the band to Los Angeles for almost an entire week?"

"First off, it's four days, not an entire week. Second, we're going to be performing on Conan O'Brien," she corrected, spinning around on a heel to point her index finger directly in in face. "And thirdly, I said we didn't have to get the ballroom at the Hilton, but it was you who insisted on it. So don't be tryin' to pin that on me!"

"I only insisted because I thought that's what you wanted!"

"And now we're back to it being mah fault, huh?"

"Don't put words in my mouth, Andrea!"

"Ah, I can't talk to you right now," the blonde shouted, once more turning away. "Leave me alone!"

"Fine, then I'll just go for a walk," Marty screamed back, finally losing his temper. He stalked towards the door, grabbing his coat along the way. "I'll come back as soon as you're done being a freaking psychopath!"

"Oh, go to hell, you condescending prick!" Andy shouted as the door slammed shut.

About ninty minutes later found a now slightly less angry but still fairly annoyed Marty several blocks from his and Andy's usual haunt, the Comet Club, in favor of some pub called O'Malley's. After briefly wondering at why almost every Irish pub he'd ever been in started with an 'O', Marty entered and grabbed himself a stool near the bar.

A slim looking woman with black hair, obviously the bartender, stopped in front of him. "What'll you have?"

"You got Rickard's Red?" Marty asked.

"Coming right up," she nodded.

"Thanks," he muttered, his fingers drumming on the hardwood while awaiting the bartender to return with his drink. He began to reach for his wallet to money to pay for his drink when the bartender returned, only to have the dark haired woman shake her head at him.

"On the house," she simply stated before walking away.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Marty gave a little shrug then brought the bottle up to his lips to take a long swig. He leaned forward with his elbows against the polished wooden bar counter, the beer bottle held lazily in one hand as his brown eyed gaze fell on the many liquors that lined the walls in display. In between the bottles of Wild Turkey and Captain Morgan a familiar figure caught his attention in the mirror's reflection, who quickly noticed the architect as well, much to Marty's chagrin. _Damn it, just what I need._

"Well, if it isn't the groom-to-be himself," Tristan greeted, their eyes meeting in the mirror. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Go away, Dugray," Marty warned, the half empty beer bottle near his lips once again. "I am not in the mood for your particular brand of bullshit right now."

His fiance's ex-boyfriend snorted. "When are you ever in the mood for it, Harrison?" The blonde man sat in the stool next to Marty, waving the bartender over. "I'll have what he's having please."

"Sure thing," the dark haired woman nodded, then motioned to Marty. "You want another?"

Marty glanced at his nearly empty bottle in surprise before nodding in response. When she returned with the beers, Tristan handed her a twenty and told her to keep the change. The bartender thanked him and walked away, the two men now left to share a relatively awkward quiet between them.

"Andy's pretty upset," Tristan stated after a long pause. "Lexie texted me to come find you."

"What happens between my fiance and myself is none of your business," Marty replied in annoyance. "And I'd appreciate it if you kept your mouth shut about her because I haven't forgotten what you tried to do the last time you were here, Dugray. And I'm not against taking my bad mood out on you right now."

"Guess that's fair enough," the other man nodded as though remembering his failed attempt to win back Andy two years earlier. "But if I may be so bold to remind you, Andy did choose you back then, remember?"

"Where's Rory tonight?" Marty asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Your guess is as good as mine," he shrugged. "Probably hanging out with her new roommate."

Marty quirked an eyebrow at that. "She has a new roommate?"

"Yeah, some girl from Florida named Sarah," clarified Tristan with a chuckle. "They look a lot alike, too. Almost like sisters with those incredible blue eyes of theirs."

"Huh," the architect grunted, uncomfortably guilty for not knowing what was going on lately in his friend's life. He'd been so caught up in planning his wedding to Andy that Marty had neglected his friendship with Rory. Then again it wasn't like he was the only one to blame for that happening. The reporter had done the same, neither of them making contact with the other since the engagement party almost three weeks ago. He frowned at that realization. _Has it really been three weeks? Damn._

"She's in love with you," said Tristan, his sudden statement reminding Marty that his former rival for Andy's affections was still seated beside him. "You know that, right?"

"Well, I should certainly hope so," Marty scoffed, assuming that the blonde man had returned to the subject of Andy. "Seeing as we're getting married in a few weeks."

"You're an idiot, Harrison," a visibly frustrated Tristan sighed, finishing his beer. "An extremely lucky idiot, but still an idiot." He stood up, his steely blue gaze meeting Marty's confused brown. "And I can't help but envy the hell out of you right now. How sad is that?"

Without saying another word Tristan walked out of the pub to leave a perplexed Marty seated by himself. After a brief moment Marty chose to disregard Dugray's words and just head home to see if Andy had cooled off from their argument. He dropped a five dollar bill on the counter before exitting through the door Tristan had gone. When Marty arrived home to an almost completely darkened townhouse, he immediatly began to get worried.

"Babe?" Marty called out. "Where are you?"

"She's up in your guys' bedroom," Lexie answered from atop the landing, silhouetted against the hallway light coming from upstairs.

"How is she?" Marty asked.

"She's pretty pissed at me," the band manager sighed, her expression one of guilt. "You know, for causing your argument and all." Then added under her breath. "Sorry about that."

"It's not your fault, Lex," he said. "This has been building for a while and we were overdue for an argument sooner or later. Wedding planning stress is a bitch."

"Remind me never to get married," she joked, descending the stairs. "I'm going to head home. I'll see what I can do about re-scheduling the Conan gig in the morning."

"No, don't do that," Marty shook his head. "At least, not until I talk it over with Andy."

"Both of you are lucky that I love you guys so much, or I would have ditched you crazy kids a long time ago," smirked Lexie, now close enough to lay a hand on his shoulder. "Go check on our girl, Harrison. Good night."

"Good night," he returned with a nod. The architect let out a breath to help gather his resolve before beginning the trek upstairs to the bedroom he shared with his fiance, where Marty found the gorgeous blonde musician gazing out the window. "Hey."

Andy turned to him with a weak smile on her lips. "Hey."

Marty dropped his gaze, unable to see her so down. "How are you doing?"

"Honestly? I feel like an asshole," she stated, her answer surprising Marty enough that he couldn't help but meet her gaze again. Andy took a step towards him, her lithe arms brought up to hug herself as though she was cold. "You were right earlier. I haven't been pulling my weight in this wedding planning stuff. While you've been busting your butt with the caterers and photographers, dealing with our demented families and all that other important stuff, what have I been doing? Nothing, that's what," she muttered bitterly. "I've just been carrying on like nothing's going to change. I mean, just this morning I did an interview with Spin instead of meeting you for that wine tasting thing. And before that, I've been completely too caught up with my career to actually listen to you about the Hilton ballroom." Her green eyes shone with unshed tears, an earnest expression displayed on her face. "Which is another thing you were right about, by the way. I really do want the reception held there."

"Andy," Marty began, not comfortable with how his fiance was blaming their entire argument on herself. "Look, you're not-"

"I've been a real shitty fiance as of late," the straw haired woman interupted, index finger pressed on his lips to prevent Marty from continuing. "But that crap ends now. From here on out I promise to start pulling my weight, but if I start to slack again, Martin, I need you to promise that you'll call me on it, okay?"

Marty reached up and grasped her hand within his own, then let out a small breath before continuing. "We could postpone if you want, Andy. Because if it feels like I'm rushing you, we can postpone everything." He kissed her hand. "It doesn't matter to me when I marry you, just knowing that it will happen is enough for me."

"You'd really do that for me, wouldn't you?" Andy asked, a couple of tears tumbling from her green eyes down her cheeks. She shook her head. "No, don't postpone the wedding. You've already sacrificed so much for my dream since we got together." The blonde smiled. "I know about the Dallas offer, Martin. And I love you so much for giving up that huge promotion in order for us to stay in Chicago."

"The huge bonus I got instead bought the down payment on this house, so I think it all worked out for the best," he joked weakly.

"Yes, I suppose it did," she agreed, leaning up to kiss him softly. "Fight over?"

"Fight over," Marty confirmed with a nod.

* * *

 **Reviews are appreciated. Thanks!**


	29. Uncomfortable Invitation

29 - Uncomfortable Invitation

"Thanks again for giving my homeless butt a place to stay," said the taller brunette walking beside Rory, the pair of new roommates now in the produce aisle of the grocery store located three blocks from their apartment. "Because if you hadn't, I'd be back in Omaha living with my family. Ungh!"

"Omaha isn't that bad, Sarah," Rory defended, her mind drifting back to the brief time she'd spent there during the Obama campaign. "I actually found it to be rather pleasant."

"Oh, it is pleasant, but my family is not," a smirking Sarah amended. "Don't get me wrong, Rory. I love my family to death and all, but those people are insane!"

"I'm the grand-daughter of Richard and Emily Gilmore, so you're preaching to the choir, sister," the reporter chuckled.

"Ooh, kiwis! I love kiwis," her new roomie cooed, all of a sudden changing directions to head directly towards the fruit in question.

"You have the attention span of a five year old, you know that, right?" Rory chided while following Sarah around the corner, just to stop suddenly when her gaze fell on the fairer half of a certain couple she'd been trying to avoid. She quickly ducked behind a display, sincerely hoping that Andy hadn't taken notice of Rory's presence.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sarah inquired, clearly bemused.

"Oh, nothing," she lied, one of the display products now in her hand. "Just wondering if I should buy some of this-" Rory glanced at the item in her grasp. "Cottage cheese."

The other girl quirked a skeptical eyebrow at Rory. "Really? Since when do you enjoy the luxurious taste of cottage cheese?"

"Since...now?" Rory said, completely unconvinced as the other brunette appeared to be. After sneaking a quick peek to find that Andy was gone, the journalist decided to change the subject. "So, did you get your kiwis?"

"All eight of them," Sarah grinned, a clear plastic bag held up with her prizes displayed inside for all to see. "I love the way these things taste, even if they do look like-"

"Please don't finish that analogy," begged Rory.

"Fine, but only if you tell me who you were hiding from," she said.

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about," Rory denied.

"Man, I can't wait until we get home to have these big, hairy ba-" Sarah began loudly, only to have the reporter clap her hand over the taller girl's mouth. Delighted amusement lit up Sarah's bright blue eyes, who knew she had Rory trapped.

"You suck," she muttered, dropping her hand away.

"And very well, I've been told," her friend deadpanned. "Now quit stalling."

"People have actually told you that?" Rory asked in surprise, azure blue eyes wide.

"Honey, I need you to focus," Sarah growled and fixed her steely blue gaze on her friend in mock annoyance. "Because I am very close to kicking your bu-"

"Rory?"

 _Oh, man_ , the journalist thought, turning to face Marty's tall blonde rocker girlfriend. _No, she's his fiance now,_ Rory reminded herself for the umpteenth time before greeting the woman who had unknowingly beaten her soundly for a certain architect's affections. "Hello, Andy."

"You been quite the stranger lately," Andy remarked while stepping forward to embrace the reporter in a one armed hug, a blue plastic basket hanging from the other. "How you been doing?"

"I've been alright," said Rory, awkwardly returning the blonde's hug. "Just busy with work and stuff. You know, the usual. And you?"

"Crazy busy lately, what with the wedding planning, magazine interviews and all," the musician smiled. "Did you get your invitation yet?"

"Oh, yes, it came in the mail a few days ago," Rory nodded. "The design is gorgeous."

"I know, Marty has quite the eye for that sort of thing," Andy replied, her smile faltering slightly for the briefest of moments. It was so quick though that Rory had almost missed it. "Anyway, I'm glad I ran into you."

"Oh?"

"Yes, Lexie and a few friends from our college days are throwing me a bachlorette party this Friday and I was wondering if you'd like to join us?"

"I don't know," Rory said, reluntant. "I mean, they're your friends. I'd feel like I was intruding."

"Nonsense, but if you feel that you need more than two familiar faces present, you can bring your friend along if you like," she stated, her emerald gaze now turned to the slightly taller brunette who'd been surprisingly quiet this entire time. Usually Rory couldn't get the girl to shut up. "Help me out here, will ya?"

"I'm always up for a party," Sarah agreed with a smile. "I'm Sarah, by the way."

"Hi, I'm Andy," the blonde replied. "Pleasure to meet you, Sarah,"

"Likewise," said the other woman, who then nudged the reporter. "Come on, Gilly. It'll be fun."

 _Traitor,_ a defeated Rory thought before finally relenting to the bride-to-be's invitation. "Fine, if you insist, I'll come."

"Well, now that we have that settled, I really should get back to my shopping," Andy segued, her smile bright. "Marty's making his famous lasagna for dinner tonight and since I couldn't cook my way out of a paper bag, I decided to help by gathering the ingredients while he's still at work."

"Why would you try cooking if you were inside a paper bag? Sounds kind of dangerous," joked Sarah, which brought a laugh from the blonde musician.

"Anyway, we're going to head home, too," Rory said, lightly grasping her roommate and friend by the elbow. "Say goodnight, Gracie."

"Goodnight, Gracie," Sarah waved, allowing the reporter to lead her away.

"See you guys Friday," Andy called after them.

"See you then," Rory confirmed curtly as they departed.

After buying their own groceries and leaving the market, the pair of friends entered Rory's Prius in relative silence until Sarah broke it.

"So what the heck was that all about?" Sarah asked.

"I'll tell you when we get home," sighed Rory while shifting her car into gear.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading and please feel free to leave a review.**


	30. Foofaraw

30 - Foofaraw

"I just want to go on record to say that this is a terrible idea," Marty declared while hurriedly changing from his work clothes into the dark green Jack's Mannequin concert tee that his fiance had given him after her last tour, the soon-to-be married architect having just arrived from the office around five minutes earlier. "It's probably the one tradition in all this getting married stuff that I am not looking forward to actually participating in."

"You may not be looking forward to it, but I don't think that's really the point of tonight," Andy called out from the washroom, where she was preparing for the party being thrown by her friends in her honor. "I mean, these parties are more for our friends and family than for us, you know?"

"I know, I just have this bad feeling that something stupid is going to happen," he complained with a sigh. Marty joined the slim woman he'd soon be married to in front of the mirror, his arms drawn around her waist in order to pull Andy against him. "I think we should buck tradition and just spend the night in." He kissed Andy's lithe neck which brought a low moan from the gorgeous musician in his embrace, then whispered in her ear. "There's a Mythbusters marathon on Discovery."

"As tempting as that sounds, babe," Andy chuckled under her breath. "I think that Lexie would kill me if I bailed on her and the girls tonight."

"Come on, I know how you just love to openly mock Kari Byron's geek cred," he said lowly near her earlobe, hoping to entice his fiance to agree.

"Well, I really enjoy doing that," the blonde admitted with a soft chuckle. She leaned back into him and let out another soft moan, which quickly turned into a frustrated sigh when the doorbell sounded to interupted the couple. "Saved by the bell," Andy muttered. "Damned stupid bell."

"Damned stupid bell," Marty agreed, releasing her from his embrace. He smiled at his fiance's reflection. "I'll go see which one of us that's for. You just keep getting ready."

"You know, I can't wait until all this wedding foofaraw is over so things can get back to normal around here," she sighed.

The architect stopped to quirk an eyebrow at her. "Foofaraw? Really?"

"Oh, hush up and go let whoever's at the door inside," she ordered with a playful roll of her eyes, gently pushing him away. "Go, go, go."

"Yes, ma'am," he drawled before leaving the washroom. When Marty arrived at the bottom of the stairs a short moment later, he could hear two voices in an animated discussion that was muffled by the closed door. The architect immediately recognized Rory's voice as he got closer to his destination, though he still could not make out what was being said. Marty would've contemplated eavesdropping on the conversation if he hadn't simply just whipped the door open on impulse, surprising himself and the two women standing on his front step. After his brown eyes darted between Rory and her friend, Marty couldn't help but agree with Tristan on how the pair could pass as sisters. Now if he could just recall what the other girl's name was.

"Hey, Marty," an obviously awkward Rory greeted, a sheepish little smile on her lips. "Long time no see, huh?"

"Uh, hey, Rory," he returned, suddenly and inexplicibly feeling awkward as well. "What's up?"

"Um, I'm here for," she began, fumbling for words. "I mean, we're here f-"

"For strippers and booze," the other woman cut in with a wicked smirk. "And if things go the way I hope they go, maybe we'll witness somebody getting a helicopter dance tonight!"

"You're worse than my mom sometimes, Sarah," Rory groaned in embarrassment, a palm placed on her forehead.

"Anyways," a somewhat disturbed Marty segued, trying desperately to cast that vision of someone receiving 'the helicopter dance' from his mind (with distressingly limited success). "Why don't you two come inside?"

"That sounds like a honey of an idea," remarked Sarah, still wearing that smirk.

"Please be quiet now," the journalist begged her friend, then smiled up at Marty. "Thanks, Marty."

"No problem," he shrugged, allowing them to enter. Not more than a moment after guiding Rory and her friend Sarah into the living room did the doorbell go off again to announce the arrival of more people. He gave his guests a friendly smile. "Excuse me."

"Your guy has some nice digs, Gilly," he heard Sarah say as Marty entered the foyer, causing him to wonder what the new girl could possibly mean by that remark. Marty didn't have much time to dwell on that though because when he opened the door this time his older brother more or less bowled him aside. If not for the nearby railing Marty would've fallen flat on his butt.

"Hey, watch it!"

"Grab your jacket, pussy," Dan ordered with a grin, completely unaffected by his younger brother's withering glare. "There are strip clubs to visit and lap dances to be had, so hurry the hell up and let's get this show on the road!"

"I told you I wasn't interested in strip clubs, Dan," Marty reminded, recalling the conversation he'd had with Dan when the older Harrison brother had arrived in Chicago two days earlier. "What part of that did you not understand?"

"Too bad because everybody's already waiting in the limo," he declared, his grin widening. "Now get your shit together and let's go. Don't want to keep the boys waiting, do you?"

"Fine," relented Marty with a sigh. "Just let me grab my wallet and stuff from upstairs first, okay?"

"Sure thing, Marty Bones," Dan nodded, the older Harrison's attention now drawn to the boots at his feet. "And who do these belong to?"

"Rory and a friend of hers," the younger Harrison answered without thinking, only to stop halfway up the stairs when he realized what he just revealed. He turned to give his brother a warning glare, but found himself too late. _Damn it._

"Ladies, ladies, ladies," he heard Dan greet before deciding that the best course of action now would be to head upstairs and retrieve his things as quickly as possible. Hopefully his elder brother wouldn't scare Rory and her new friend away while he was doing so.

"Hey, did you know there's a limo waiting outside the house?" Andy asked when he rejoined his fiance in the bedroom. She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Rob?"

"Dan," he corrected.

"Really? Well, that's a surprise," she remarked. "What exactly does he do again?"

"I...don't actually know," Marty admitted, now disturbed at the realization. "I never got around to asking him, but it must be something pretty steady if he can afford to come here as much as he does."

"Let's hope it's nothing illegal," the blonde said.

"I rather doubt it's anything like that," the younger Harrison said in defense his brother, although Marty remained skeptical himself. _But thanks for the worrying thought, babe._

"Anyway, who else is here?" Andy segued. "I heard the doorbell go off twice."

"Rory and her friend," he answered while walking past his fiance to grab his wallet, keys and cellphone from the nightstand. "They're here for your bachlorette party."

"I prefer the term 'staggette', thank you very much," she corrected with a grin before tossing her arms around his waist when Marty turned to face her, their lips meeting for a gentle kiss. Andy smiled up at him after they seperated. "Now remember not to steal Mike Tyson's tiger, pull your own tooth out on a dare, or accidently marry Heather Graham, okay?"

"No 'Hangover' re-enactments. Got it," he said with an amusement little smile. "Anything else?"

"Just one last thing, dear," Andy smiled back.

"And what would that be, babe?"

"Have fun tonight, Martin."

"Same goes for you, Andrea."

"Tell Rory that I'll be right down," she said, gently pushing him towards the door. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he replied, then headed back downstairs to discover that yet another visitor had arrived while he was upstairs. "Oh, hey, Lex-"

The band manager held a finger up to her lips, which was the universal signal to be quiet. Curious as to what Lexie was doing, Marty walked over to join her in the foyer. He followed her gaze towards the newcomer, who was overtly flirting with Dan as an amused Rory watched on from a different angle.

"Who's the new girl?" Lexie asked in a curiously low tone.

"I think her name is Sarah," he answered.

"Well, she and your brother seem to be getting along."

Marty shrugged. "I guess."

Lexie turned to him with a queer expression on her face, but before he could inquire the band manager about it she motioned towards the stairway. "Andy upstairs?"

"Yeah, head on up," he nodded.

"Thanks," she said, slipping past him.

 _What that was all about?_ Marty wondered for a moment, then shrugged it off and continued on his way into the living room. His brother looked up when he entered, an almost manic grin on his face.

"All set to go, my brother from another father?" Dan inquired, illiciting soft chuckles from Rory and her friend.

"Lead the way," Marty sighed in resignation.

* * *

 **Reviews are appreciated, so please do so after reading. Thanks!**


	31. Her Own Worst Enemy

31 - Her Own Worst Enemy

"We'll 'ave another round of shots over 'ere please," a more than slightly inebriated Lexie Keaton ordered, waving the nearest waiter over to their table. "And keep them coming!"

"Wow, we've only been at this for two hours and the maid-of-honor is already completely sloshed," a grinning Sarah noted as she leaned towards Rory on her stool. "This is going to be a fun night!"

"Hmm," frowned the journalist, not really in the partying mood at the moment. Something just didn't feel right about tonight. Ever since leaving the townhouse for their first stop (which happened to be the Comet Club) shortly after Marty's group had gone and Andy came downstairs along with Lexie, she'd noticed a tension between the two best friends that was distracting her to no end. Despite plastering a bright smile on her lips while more or less keeping pace with the others in their drinking, Andy was clearly bothered by something. Lexie on the other hand seemed to be hitting the sauce harder than anyone else in their party, her hazel-green gaze sometimes drifting towards the brooding bride-to-be with obvious concern. And something else as well, but the reporter couldn't quite figure it out. Rory continued to study the pair for a moment until noticing Sarah frowning at her. "What?"

"I know that you don't really feel comfortable being here, Gilly," she answered in a lowered tone, so no one else could overhear. "But you've got to cut it out with the whole brooding beaten rival thing you got going on because you're being a real downer, dude."

"First off, don't call me 'dude'," Rory whispered back in annoyance. "Second, I was not brooding. I was observing. Third, I am not being a downer. So qui-"

"Hey, what are you two whispering 'bout over there?" Lexie cut in, her speech slurred. "Don't you know there's a party goin' on over here?" The band manager swung her arm over to the stage without waiting for answer. "Hey, why isn't there a dancer on the stage yet? We came to see some dancers!"

"That would be because we're still at the Comet Club, Lex," one of her and Andy's four college friends supplied with a laugh. The girl who'd spoken was an attractive red-head by the name of Helena, if memory served Rory correct. She had only just met the group of women two hours prior though, so Rory could be mistaken on that.

"Oh, right," the band manager returned sheepishly.

"Okay, no more for you," declared another of the out-of-town girls, whose name Rory couldn't recall at the moment. She took the drink away from a now pouting Lexie. "This is for your own good, Lex. Otherwise we'll be scrapping your plastered ass off the floor before we even get to the strip club. So cut it out with the pout."

"Fine, whatever," Lexie relented with a grumble. The maid-of-honor then glanced across the table at her best friend. "Your tiara in coming loose."

"Thanks," Andy said dryly, rolling her eyes before fixing the tiara without another word.

"Okay, what is going on with you two tonight?" Helena cut in, telling Rory that she wasn't the only one who had noticed the tension between Andy and Lexie all evening.

"Nothing," the two best friends answered at the same time.

"Yeah, that's a load of horseshit. Now one of you spill it," a short blonde with similar features as Andy stated, pointing a finger between them. "Spill it, or else I start punching tits."

Both Rory and Sarah looked at each other in shock at that, neither knowing if the girl was serious in her unusual threat.

The short blonde looked at the band manager cooly. "Lex?"

"This isn't my fault, Kat," a suddenly distraught Lexie cried, hazel eyes gleaming with hurt. "She's the one freezing me out! All I did was cancel the Conan gig until after the wed-"

"You know damn well that's not what Ah'm upset 'bout!" Andy interupted, her quiet brooding now sparking into full-blown anger. "Ungh! You can be so freakin' dense sometimes!"

With that the blonde bride-to-be rose from her stool and attempted to stalk off, only to have the shorter blonde grab her by the wrist. "Then what is it about?"

"None of your damn business, Katelyn," sneered Andy before easily twisting out of her grip, then heading up the stairs onto the second floor.

"Okay, maybe I spoke too soon when I said this would be fun," stated Sarah, sharing a worried glance with Rory.

"I'll go check on her," volunteered Rory just as the crowd's murmuring settled down and the music began playing again. The reporter arrived atop the second floor and weaved through the few people there, stopping to inquire a slim man if he had seen Andy. He gestured in the direction of the balcony where the journalist had inadvertantly revealed her feelings for Marty to Tristan on New Year's Eve. She took a deep breath then gently pushed the door open to step outside.

"What's this I'm hearin' about you not comin' to mah wedding?" Andy pratically shouted into her cellphone, completely ignorant of Rory's presence. "You can not NOT be there! After everything we've been through, I think I deserve an explana-" The blonde gasped in surprise for a moment, her voice taking on a raspier quality. "If that were really the case, if you really care 'bout me like you claim to, you wouldn't 'ave waited 'til now to tell m-" She stopped again to take catch her breath, then growled out. "You know what? Fine, you want to be an asshole about this, then I don't want you here! You can go to hell, Tristan Micah Dugray! You can go straight to fuckin' hell!"

 _Micah? Tristan's middle name is Micah?_ Rory found herself wondering in surprise until the sound of plastic shattering against concrete caused her to flinch. It dawned on Rory that she was on the other end of overhearing a conversation this time. Uncertain of what to do next though, Rory decided to wing it and laid her hand on Andy's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

The musician turned her gaze on the reporter, those usually friendly emerald eyes glaring coldly back. "Do I look okay to you?"

"Alright, stupid question," admitted Rory while pulling her hand away. "Sorry."

The other woman's expression softened. "No, I'm sorry." She let out a ragged sigh. "It's just...I can't believe that Tris isn't coming. I mean, for the longest time in freshman year I had no one but Lexie, then we met up at a party and became friends. Close friends, actually." She paused to sniffle, then continued. "We didn't start dating until halfway through sophomore year and we were together 'til graduation." Rory watched the blonde wipe a tear from her cheek. "Even after we broke up, we stayed in touch. I was beside him when his grandpa Janlan died a month after grad. And when I broke my leg falling off stage during a gig two months later, he and Lex took turns taking care of me."

 _Tristan means a lot to her, doesn't he? You know, this may be an opportunity for you to get what you want, Rory,_ whispered a voice in Rory's mind, a voice that sounded suspiciously like her grandmother, Emily Gilmore. _You really shouldn't let it go to waste._

 _What happened to being Marty's friend? A real friend wouldn't do that, kiddo,_ her mother's voice chimed in opposition. _A real friend wouldn't sabotage their friend's wedding thirty-six hours before the ceremony!_

 _Be quiet and let me think, you two!_ Rory snapped internally, her concern on the fact that maybe she really was losing her sanity now growing more and more. _Even when they're just voices in my head, they argue like crazy!_

"What if he's right though? What if I am making a mistake? Am I rushing into this wedding?" Andy cried, her green eyes wide in panic. "Oh, God! I'm rushin' inta this, aren't I?"

 _I can do this,_ the journalist thought before stepping in front of her unknowing victorious rival, her hands grasping the now doubting bride-to-be by the elbows to keep her in place. "Now listen here and you listen good, Andrea," she gently ordered, her use of the blonde's proper name receiving the desired affect of grabbing Andy's undivided attention. "Tristan is wrong. You are not rushing in. You are not making some huge mistake. And come this Sunday morning, you will be getting married to one of the most incredible guys I know." _The most incredible guy, actually_ , Rory added mentally. "And if Tristan doesn't realize that, then screw him. Don't let that selfish ass ruin what is supposed to be the happiest weekend of your life, okay?" The blonde opened her mouth to protest, only to have Rory cut her off. "Okay?"

"Okay, I won't," the now much calmer Andy promised, then smiled softly at the brunette. "You know, you really are a good friend, Rory. I can see why Marty thinks so highly of you."

"Well, I try my best," she said with a shrug, all the while hoping that the non-chalant response would hide the hurt her new friend had caused with that compliment.

"Is it safe for me to come out here?" Lexie asked cautiously from the doorway leading inside.

"Yeah, come here," the musician nodded, gesturing for her best friend to join them.

"I'm going to head inside now," Rory stated, intent to leave the bride-to-be alone with her maid-of-honor on the balcony.

"So, how'd it go? Are Lexie and Andy making up? Because everybody's ready to head over to the strip club and we're just waiting on them now," Sarah informed, the brunette meeting Rory halfway on the stairs.

"Yeah, I think they are. They just need a minute," Rory sighed.

The other girl gave her a concerned frown. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing's the matter," the reporter lied before continuing down the stairs past her unconvinced looking friend. "Come on, let's go grab our coats."

 _You did a good thing back there, kiddo_ , said Lorelai in her mind. _I'm proud of you._

 _Thanks, but if I did such a good thing, Mom_ , a completely miserable Rory wondered, barely containing her emotions at that moment. _Why do I feel like someone just died?_

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, and as always, feel free to review.**


	32. The Brothers Harrison

32 - The Brothers Harrison

 _Of all the songs to be woken up by, it just had to be this one, huh?_ Marty groaned in pain, his hand grasping a nearby pillow to cover his head in a vain attempt to escape the terrible sound. After another thirty seconds of the banshee screetching on how she doesn't like her crush's current girlfriend, Marty just couldn't take any more of the cruel torture. "Someone turn that shit off already!"

"Told you that would work," remarked Dan in a smug voice to somebody else. "You owe me ten bucks, dude."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," the other person snorted, who Marty recognized to be none other than his boss, Rob. "Not like that was much of a bet though. That girl really can't sing worth a damn."

"She is really damned hot though," a third person said from the other side of the room, none of them hurrying to turn the horrible 'music' off during the conversation.

"True," both Rob and Dan agreed.

"Why can I still hear that crap playing?" Marty shouted from under the pillow. Or rather the couch cushion, he realized after another moment. _Well, it could've been worse. Might be tempted to kill myself if Nickleback was playing instead of Avril Lavigne._

"Right, sorry about that," the third person said, turning of the source of the claxon. "Better?"

"Very much, thanks," he groaned, his hangover choosing now to make its presence known. And boy was it ever a doozy. "Ow, what time is it?"

"Just about one o'clock in the afternoon," Dan answered. "Thought we'd let you sleep in as much as possible before heading out for breakfast."

"Lunch, actually," the third person chimed in, who the groom-to-be now recognized as none other than Neil, bassist for the Ragged Dolls.

 _Oh, that's right, the band was partying with us last night,_ Marty remembered with a wince, the daylight hurting his eyeballs like hot pokers. "Where are the other guys?"

"Well, Scott, the complete lightweight that he is, went home about twelve o'clock last night, while Stephen ditched us back around the third strip club when his latest boy-toy called for some booty," Neil explained.

"That Stephen guy was gay?" Dan wondered aloud in surprise, only to instantly shrug it off. "Well, actually that explains a lot about his behavior at the club last night."

"Any way, I should probably be booting it now," the bass player stated. "The girlfriend is probably getting worried." He nodded at Marty. "See you tomorrow, man."

"See you then," Marty nodded and gave him a small salute-like wave, barely able to sit up on the couch. He flinced when a hand fell on his shoulder.

"I need to be heading home as well, Martin," Rob announced with a chuckle. "Kelsey and Riese texted me about an hour ago, more or less demanding I bring home something from Sutton's. See you tomorrow. And congratulations again, kid."

"Thanks," he groaned. slumping forward.

"Looks like it's just you and me, lil' bro," declared a gleeful Dan, pretty much throwing himself into the empty space beside the younger Harrison brother on the couch.

"Yay."

"You say that with so much enthusiasm," his only sibling laughed.

"That's as much as you're getting from me right now," Marty stated in no uncertain terms.

"Fair enough," shrugged Dan, turning on the television after grabbing the remote from the coffee table. "Go take a shower, then we'll go for our very late brunch."

The younger Harrison was about to protest, but decided that maybe a shower would help wake him up and rose from the couch to stumble towards the hotel washroom instead.

A half hour later found the brothers Harrison standing in line at a nearby McDonald's in desparate need of something greasy to counteract the effects of last night's escapades.

"If this crap kills me, I am so haunting you, dumbass," declared Marty with all seriousness.

"If this crap kills you, it'll probably kill me, too," countered Dan with equal sternness. "Pussy."

"Dipshit."

"Felliatio giving monkey herder."

"Donkey raping shi-"

"May I take your order, sirs?"

Marty glanced at the cashier who'd interupted him, then to his brother and back to the cashier and then back to Dan again. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"You're buying, so make the order," he explained with an innocent expression.

"Fine," sighed Dan in exasperation. "Four Big Mac combos, please."

The cashier grinned knowingly. "Hungover, huh?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Marty confirmed.

After receiving their orders and commandeering a table for themselves, they sat down in relative silence between them. Marty had just finished his first combo when Dan decided it was time to break the quiet that the younger brother had been enjoying by letting out an obviously fake cough.

 _Oh, boy, here we go,_ thought Marty in annoyance, somehow knowing this was leading to a touchy subject. "What?"

"That obvious, huh?" Dan smirked, a fry in his fingers.

"Just out with it, Danny," he sighed.

"I don't know if I should," his brother replied. "You know, seeing as last time I brought this subject up, you chased me right out the door of that pretty little townhouse you own."

It took a moment for Marty to recall what Dan was referring to and another to keep himself from reaching over to slap him upside the head for doing so again now. "Oh, for fu-"

"Hey, now, remember where we are, Marty Bones," a smirking Dan cut in. "Family restaurant and all that crap, right?"

He narrowed his eyes at the older Harrison boy. "Don't be a dick, Dan."

"I'm not trying to be a dick here, bro," explained Dan, his smirk now replaced by a serious expression that Marty had only ever seen once or twice in his entire adult life. "No joking or teasing on my part this time. Are you sure you're marrying the right girl?"

"I'm marrying the right girl," Marty answered with forced calm.

His brother gazed at him for another moment before nodding. "I believe you."

"Praise the Lord," he muttered, bitter.

"Look, I know I haven't exactly been the best big brother I could while we were growing up, but at least I'm trying now, right?" Dan said in exasperation, still uncharacteristically serious. "I mean, look at the rest of our clan, Marty. Our parents are complete and utter selfish bastards who refuse to come to your wedding just so they can avoid each other, while our beloved grandparents refuse to acknowledge our existances because the mess those three idiots created more than two decades ago. So like it or not, you and I are the only family the other has, okay? And I'll be damned if I see you end up making the same mistake our parents did. Understand?"

Marty blinked in shock at his brother, then nodded slowly in response.

"Alright then," he nodded, taking a bite in the process. He swallowed the food and continued. "So if you're absolutely sure that Andy's the girl you want to spend the rest of your life shacking up with, I'll be honored to stand up at that altar while you do so, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," the still shocked groom-to-be agreed.

"I got your back, bro," Dan promised, returning his attention back to his burger.

The younger brother watch the older for a moment in stunned silence, only to feel a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. _Thanks, Danny._

* * *

 **BROS!**


	33. Between Groundlessness & Flight

33 - The Precipice Between Groundlessness & Flight

"This is it, isn't it?" Rory asked, the church looming in front of her like some sort of vicious leviathan ready to swallow her whole.

"How very Gothic," Sarah commented from her left, their arms entwined. "I wonder if there's a hunchback living up in the rafters?"

"It is very Notre Dame-ish," the reporter agreed, though her quip was rather half-hearted.

"I'm right beside you, Gilly," her friend assured, the slightly taller brunette sliding her hand down to grip Rory's in support. "You can do this."

The reporter nodded and let out a deep, steadying breath then stepped forward into the church with Sarah beside her, a vague feeling of surrealness washing over her in the process. She made her way to one of the pews on the groom's side and sat down to wait for the ceremony to begin. She watched the groom speaking with his brother and best man as they too awaited the bride's arrival, only to blanch for a second when Marty turned his gaze to her and smiled. Rory mustered the best smile she could in return, hoping that it masked the turmoil in her stomach. Her efforts were apparently wasted because he quirked an eyebrow at her in concern, but fortunately for Rory the organist chose then to begin playing and brought their silent conversation to an end.

Rory let a low, shivering breath escape her lips as the maid-of-honor walked down the aisle to stand at her designated spot. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat when the bridal march resonated throughout the church, a harbinger of Andrea Marie Walker's grand entrance and the end of Rory's most ardent hopes and dreams.

"It should be you up there, not her," a girl's voice came from her right. She glanced at the girl and instantly knew who she was despite the young brunette being around fifteen years old instead of the usual eight.

"Who am I to deny his happiness, Fred?" Rory queried back, not carrying if anybody heard the reporter talking to her imaginary daughter. "No, I refuse to deny him it. He deserves that happiness."

"But what about our happiness, Mom?" Fred countered. "Some people may find it all noble that you're allowing your beloved to be happy without you, but I think it's bullshit. But then again, I am biased since it's my existence on the line right now."

"You shouldn't curse, Fred," she chided, her gaze meeting dark brown eyes so similar to Marty's.

"What do you care? It's not like I'm going to actually exist anymore anyway," the teen scoffed, her visage starting to fade. "Not unless you do something soon, that is."

"Don't go, baby girl," Rory whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. Her resolve was definitely slipping.

"Then don't let me go, Mom," Fred whispered back, her shadowy visage almost completely vanished now. "Say something. Now."

"If there is any person present who objects to this marriage," the minister stated, immediately capturing the Yale graduate's attention. "Speak now, or fo-"

"I object," Rory cried, bringing a collective gasp from the crowd.

Marty stared at her in shock and betrayel. "Rory?"

"I'm so sorry, Marty," she said while stepping out into the aisle. "I thought I could do this, I really did, but I can't do it. I just can't see you marry someone else!"

The groom stepped down from the altar to stand about ten feet from where Rory was standing, his bride glaring daggers over his shoulder as the reporter was pleading her case. "Rory..."

"I mean, don't get me wrong, Andy, you're great and all, but Marty belongs with me," she implored in desparation, her teary azure gaze quickly drawn from the fuming bride back to the bewildered groom. "I know I screwed it up back in Yale, but I was a different person then. I realize that I should've picked you, not Logan. You were always there to help me in that quiet, wonderful way of yours, but I was too stupid to realize it. But I realize it now, Marty, I realize that you're the one!" The distraught Lorelai Leigh Gilmore took a steadying breath before finally declaring for the whole world to hear. "I love you, Martin Harrison!"

Marty took another step which brought a loud but wordless protest from the blonde bride atop the altar. He glanced back and nodded at Andy before continuing towards Rory, who all but rushed forward to engulf the tall architect in her arms. She sniffed against his chest and let happy tears fall as she clung to Marty as though her life depended on it.

"Rory, I'm sorry," he apologized, gently disengaging himself from her embrace. "You shouldn't have done this. It's too late for us now."

"No, no...it's can't be," whimpered Rory, struggling in vain to keep her hold on Marty. "It can't be too late! Marty, it just can't be!"

"Please stop this, Rory," he begged, easily slipping out of her range.

"I love you," she cried, all but falling to the carpeted floor.

"But I love Andy," Marty stated in no uncertain terms. He turned away from Rory and strode up to stand once more beside his bride, who was now sending her rival the most pitying look in the history of pitying looks.

"You poor girl," the bride whispered.

"Father? Please resume the ceremony," Marty said to the minister, his arm snaking around Andy's waist to pull her closer.

The broken hearted Rory Gilmore began to cry harder than she could ever remember crying in her entire life, the words of the minister and the happy couple fading into the background as she sobbed pathetically on the floor.

"Rory," she heard Sarah say softly, a hand placed gently on her shoulder. "It's time to get up."

"I don't want to," Rory cried, slapping her friend's hand away. "Leave me alone."

"If you don't get up, we're gonna miss the wedding," her friend said, completely confusing the reporter.

"What?" Rory asked, lifting her head up to find herself in bed. _Oh, God, it was just a dream._

"Bad dream?" Sarah asked, her expression one of concern.

"The worst," she answered honestly, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"You sure you're up to this, Gilly?" Sarah asked, her long fingers brushing back a stray strand of hair from Rory's face. "Because we can always say that I got violent food poisoning and you had no choice but to stay home and take care of me."

Rory shook her head. "No, I've got to do this. I promised myself that I'd be the best friend to Marty that I could, even if he doesn't know about that promise." She sighed, composing herself once more. "Let's do this."

"You're one brave little toaster, Rory Gilmore," her friend smiled.

"Thanks," Rory said, unable to prevent a soft laugh to escape.

"I'll cook breakfast while you get ready," Sarah ordered, leaving the bedroom to do just that.

After eating breakfast and getting ready for the wedding, the pair of friends were three blocks from the church as Sarah drove the Prius towards their final destination.

"Just give me the signal, Gilly, and I'll whip this baby around," her fellow blue eyed brunette offered for what must have been the thirtieth time since they departed the apartment. "No fuss, no muss."

"Keep driving, Riley," she ordered.

"Has anybody ever told you that you're a gigantic masochist?" Sarah remarked.

"You sounded like Paris just now," remarked Rory with a smirk.

"She must be a pretty smart chick, too, then," the other girl replied, then added with a smirk of her own. "Though I doubt she's anywhere near as hot as me."

The journalist rolled her eyes. "You're so conceited."

"It's not conceit if it's true, baby," retorted Sarah.

"We might be running a little late," Rory observed, noticing that the clock now read ten minutes to eleven. "The wedding starts at eleven. I hope we can find a decent parking spot."

"No worries, Gils," Sarah promised. "Danica Patrick's got nothing on me."

"Just don't get us killed," she sighed, starting to regret letting her friend drive.

"Here we are," the other girl said a moment later, bringing the car to a stop. "It's a bit of a walk, but we should get there with plenty of time if we boogie." Rory silently followed her friend out of the vehicle, then pulled the front of her jacket closed as a chill wind brushed by. "Who the hell decided that a winter wedding is a good idea?" Sarah complained, not for the first time. "I'm freezing my perfectly shaped ta-ta's off here, damn it!"

"Okay, once we get in there, you're going to have to be quiet," the reporter sighed and reached out to grasp the other girl's sleeve. "Got it?"

"Affirmative, Mistress," her friend chirped in an oddly cheery but robotic tone.

"You are such a nerd," she said, not bothering to ask what weird sci-fi show and/or video game Sarah was referencing this time.

"I prefer the term 'geek', thank you very much," Sarah declared in mock offense. "Now let's get inside, because it looks like we actually might be the last guests to arrive."

Without another word they entered the church and quickly found their way to their seats. Rory's gaze went to the rafters and then to the stain glass windows, followed by the many people seated in the pews surrounding her and Sarah. When her eyes finally fell on the person she'd tried to avoid looking at out of fear of breaking her own heart, Rory couldn't help but smile softly at how happy Marty seemed. Then and there Rory decided that there was no way she'd ruin this day for him, even if her imaginary daughter decided to make another appearance. She waved at Marty when their gazes met, unable to keep her smile from widening at his grin. Rory mouthed her congratulations, which he responed by mouthing his thanks. She glanced down at her hands when his attention was drawn away by something Dan said, sudden tears beginning to sting her eyes.

"I'm right here, Gilly," whispered Sarah, her hand grasping Rory's in support.

"Thanks," Rory whispered back, thoughts of what could've been inflicting its sweet torture on her.

 _It should be you up there,_ a familiar young woman's voice whispered in the back of her mind.

 _I've had more than my fair share of chances to be with him, but I blew them all,_ she told her imaginary daughter. _I've hurt him enough and I will not cause him anymore pain. I'm letting him go, even if it hurts like hell._ She let out a soft sniffle. _It's time I let you go, too, Fred._

 _Good-bye, Mom,_ the girl whispered back, only this time in her eight year old voice.

 _Good-bye, baby girl,_ the journalist sighed, closing her eyes to imagine one last time on how the daughter she'd never have with Marty would look like.

"Um, I think something's not right here," Sarah stated all of a sudden, her confused tone and the sudden murmuring of the assembled people causing Rory to open her eyes. Her gaze fell on a grimly determined looking Lexie striding past them and up towards the altar, definite purpose in each one of her steps. When she arrived in front of the confused groom and his best man, the maid-of-honor handed Marty an envelope.

"I'm sorry, Marty," Lexie rasped, her voice strained. "I'm so, so sorry."

"What?" Marty croaked, the happiness that had been so apparent on his face before now replaced by shock at what he was presently holding. "What is...this?"

"I don't think she's coming," Sarah whispered.

At the sound of those words, Rory felt herself soaring. That euphoria lasted only a fraction of a second though when the harsh realization of what those words actually meant hit her full force like a tidal wave.

"Oh, no," the reporter rasped, her heart now breaking for an entirely different reason.

* * *

 **o_o'**


	34. Learning How To Be Alone & Devastated

34 - Learning How to Be Alone & Devastated

Numb. That's how Marty felt right now. In fact he'd spent almost the last two weeks feeling numb, pretty much running on auto-pilot since Andy had left him standing at the altar. Dan had stayed for the first four or five of those days until his job demanded that the older Harrison brother return to California. This led to Dan asking if he wanted to head out to the west coast with him. While his initial response was to graciously refuse, Marty decided that maybe a temporary change of scenery would do him some good and accepted his brother's offer. Besides Marty already had those days scheduled off (for his now cancelled honeymoon), so why not use them?

California had proven to be a decent enough distraction for the first couple of days, but the knowledge that he'd eventually have to come home to an empty townhouse put a damper on whatever fun Marty could've fully experienced.

 _Well, at least I got to see the Pacific Ocean,_ he thought with a soft snort. His lazy brown eyed gaze watched the familiar streets of Chicago blur by through the taxi window. Soon enough the yellow cab pulled up in front of his townhouse. _My townhouse. Not mine and Andy's anymore. Just mine. What a depressing thought._

"Hey, buddy, you gonna get out any time soon?"

"What? Oh, right, sorry," he apologized.

After he removed his luggage from the space beside him and then paying the cabbie, Marty entered his empty home to find that it was surprisingly devoid of dust. He frowned in confusion for a brief moment before remembering that Rory had offered to keep an eye on the place while he was out of town. He would have to call her up later to thank her for doing that, but first and foremost Marty needed to take a shower.

When he was getting dressed following his shower, Marty wasn't very surprised to find that the majority of Andy's clothes had gone missing, not to mention quite a few of the framed pictures that his former fiance kept around the bedroom. Either she or Lexie must have returned for the items during his west coast trip he realized. It was obvious that Andy was avoiding him and that alone in itself stirred some bitterness towards the woman who Marty had been planning to spend the rest of his life with.

"Damn it," Marty muttered in frustration, leaving the room with the hamper of dirty clothes under his arm. He stalked into the laundry room and tossed the contents of his burden into the washing machine, then leaned against the cool metal frame as it began its cycle. His glance drifted to where the detergent was usually placed, only to have his gaze fall on a familiar orange concert t-shirt instead. When the fabric came in contact with his fingers, Marty couldn't help but remember the first time he'd seen it. He closed his eyes as the memory washed over him.

 _Marty had just returned to his small apartment following a rather good day at work to discover that he desperately needed to do laundry, which was a chore that the rookie architect was not fond of doing because it meant that he had to go down several floors to the ground floor where the washing machines were stored. He also had to pray that there would be a free machine, which was a rare occurence in itself. More often than not they were being used by one of the several tenants and that usually forced Marty to wait awhile for his turn._

 _Luckily for him though Marty arrived to discover that there was a free machine and immediately began shoving his clothes into the vacant appliance with a little more vigor than necessary. He paused a moment when a soft chuckle caught his attention, his gaze meeting those belonging to a green eyed blonde who was smirking at him in amusement. He shrugged at the gorgeous girl sheepishly before returning to his task, then let out an annoyed sigh at the realization that he'd forgotten to bring change along._

 _"Damn," he muttered._

 _"No change, huh?"_

 _"Afraid not," he said, turning to face the orange t-shirt clad girl who had spoken. "Guess I have to run back upstairs. Could you watch my stuff until I get back?"_

 _"Well, I could do that," the curly haired blonde said, still smirking at him. "But wouldn't it be better if I just lent you the money?"_

 _"You'd do that?" Marty asked in surprise._

 _"Sure," she shrugged. "But I do have one condition."_

 _He quirked an eyebrow at her, definitely intrigued. "And that would be?"_

 _Her confident smirk when they began their conversation faltered, replaced by a slightly nervous smile. "Join me for coffee later?"_

 _After recovering from a brief moment of disbelief that such a gorgeous girl was obviously nervous about asking him out, Marty nodded in response. "Sure."_

 _Her emerald eyes lit up. "Yeah?"_

 _"Yeah," he nodded again, then added. "But I do have a condition of my own."_

 _"Oh?"_

 _"Yeah," he repeated, his hand now held out towards her. "I'm Marty. And you are?"_

 _"Nice to meet you, Marty," the blonde grinned, her hand slipping into Marty's own. "I'm Andrea, but everybody calls me Andy."_

He returned from his reverie and continued to stare at the t-shirt for another minute or so, then opened the washing machine and tossed it inside along with some detergent. After closing the lid with a shaky hand, Marty exitted the laundry room towards the kitchen.

With a beer in his hand Marty leaned back against the breakfast nook, his gaze drawn to a certain drawer. Though he wondered if the contents of said drawer were still there, Marty couldn't bring himself to make sure. He didn't really know what to think if the letters and notes that he and Andy left there were still inside. And he didn't want to think on what it could mean if they weren't there either. Instead he finished his beer and placed the empty on top of the counter, then grabbed himself another from the fridge before heading into the living room.

Immediately upon entering the living room though, Marty noticed something was missing. It took him another moment to discover what exactly that was. He shook his head at the empty space where Andy's prized Yamaha P-200 once presided over the room.

 _Well, I guess that definitively answers the question on if she's ever coming back,_ he thought glumly while sitting down on the couch. He leaned back into the cushions to look up at the ceiling and allowed his mind to wander, the memories of his entire relationship with Andrea Marie Walker cascading over him in a relentless assault of images.

 _"I'm going to love you forever, Martin Harrison," Andy promised breathlessly in his ear._

The memory of the exact moment when she had said that forced Marty to shut his eyes tightly against the tears that threatened to escape.

"I guess forever isn't what it used to be," Marty whispered back, the numbness he'd been plagued with for the last two weeks now replaced by grief.

* * *

 **Next chapter will be titled 'the Mathematics of Regret', and it'll have some long overdue Nudist interaction. See you then!**


	35. The Mathematics of Regret

35 - The Mathematics of Regret

"No, Mom, I'm not going to make a move on him when he gets back," an exasperated Rory sighed aloud, her cellphone currently on speaker as the journalist drove towards her destination.

"And why's that, Babe?" Lorelai insisted.

"Because it's too soon," the younger Gilmore cried, completely fed up with having this same conversation for the last several days. Ever since Sarah let slip that the wedding had been a bust, Lorelai had been insistant that her daughter make a play on the now single Marty. So much so that it was getting really annoying. "I mean, he just got stood up at the altar by the love of his life! So, no, me trying to get together with him now in that context would be a terrible idea, Mom."

"But what if Andy comes back and they get back together? What are you going to do then, Rory?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Rory stated, her steady voice belying the terror of that scenario becoming reality. "So can we please drop this subject already?"

"I seriously think you're making a mistake, Sweets," her mother continued to press. "We both know you're in love with him, so I just don't get why-"

"Because I don't want to be Marty's consolation prize, Mom," Rory snapped, finally having had enough. "Don't you think I take after Dad enough as it is?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Lorelai asked in hurt shock.

"Damn it," she groaned, now realizing what her words implied. "That came out wrong."

"No, no, I get it. I've always suspected that's how you felt about me marrying your dad so soon after breaking up with Luke," the older Gilmore girl said in a strained voice. "But I honestly thought we were passed it, you know?"

"Mom, I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Your brother is just waking up from his nap," Lorelai interupted, obviously lying. "Bye, Rory. I'll call you later."

"Damn it," Rory repeated in frustration at the now dead line, her mother already having hung up on the other end. "Way to go, Gilmore," she sarcastically congratulated herself. "I bet that 'Daughter of the Year' award is on its way in the mail as we speak."

 _Nothing I can do about it until later,_ she decided morosely while in the process of parking her Prius on the curb outside Marty's townhouse. As she fished the extra door key that Marty had lent her from her coat pocket before exitting the car, Rory continued to berate herself over how unbelievably cruel she'd been towards her own mother. In fact, Rory was so distracted by her mental self-flagellation that she didn't notice that something was amiss until she was actually standing in the foyer. _Wait a second, I don't remember leaving the TV on last time I was here,_ she thought in a near panic, her wide azure eyes searching for something to use as a weapon before falling on an umbrella. She grasped its handle with white knuckles, then slowly crept into the living room.

"I thought I heard th-"

"Hee-yah!" Rory cried out in surpise, blindly swinging her makeshift weapon towards whoever it was that had spoken. The loud thunk of a body hitting the floor was quickly followed by the sound of an almost equally loud groan, which confused the reporter since the umbrella hadn't made contact with anything but the wall. Rory opened one of the blue eyes she'd shut during her swing, only to snap them both wide at the sight of a familiar looking man sitting on the carpet. "Marty?"

"Uh, hi, Rory," the architect greeted back from the floor, his surprised expression most likely a reflection of her own. "Nice swing."

"Um, thanks?"

"You going to put that down any time soon?" Marty pointed to the umbrella.

"Oh, right," she said with a sheepish little smile on her lips. "Sorry. Did I hit you?"

"Nah, I'm fine," he said, waving her off when Rory motioned to help him up. After he regained his feet, Marty walked back around the couch to sit down. "The wobbliness has nothing to do with your mad skills with the umbrella." She was about to ask Marty what he meant by that statement, but paused at the sight of him raising a bottle of beer up to his lips.

"How many of those have you had?" Rory frown in worry.

"I lost count after around the sixth or seventh one," he shrugged, one arm draped over the back in a relaxed pose. "Surprisingly, I'm not nearly as drunk as I should be."

"I guess that answers my next question," she sighed before taking the space beside him. "When did you get back?"

"About three or four hours ago," he answered, his gaze glued to the television screen.

"I hope you haven't been drinking that whole time," she frowned again, only this time in disapproval.

"Maybe I have, maybe I haven't," he shrugged.

"You shouldn't be self-medicating, Marty," chided Rory. "It's not healthy."

"I'm not self-medicating, Rory," he denied. "I'm just...trying to forget how messed up my life has become right now."

Although Rory was half-tempted to continue lecturing him on drinking his sorrows away, she decided against it and silently watched the flatscreen in front of them. About three or four minutes went by until she frowned in confusion. _Why are all of the characters talking like William Shatner?_

"What the heck are we watching?" Rory finally asked, completely lost with what was happening on the television.

"I don't know, but it's rivetting," he deadpanned, the bottle in his grasp brought up for another swallow. He glanced Rory while placing the now empty bottle back on the coffee table. "You want something to drink?"

"I'll have what you're having," she said distractedly, his footsteps being the only indication that her host had left. Rory removed her coat to make herself more comfortable, her gaze still on the screen. Marty had been right. Whatever the hell this movie was they were watching, it was rivetting despite all the actors' odd behavior and dialogue.

"What I miss?" Marty asked, handing her a beer.

"Okay, apparently, Parker Posey's husband was some sort of spy and Jeff Goldblum is a CIA agent who wants some notebooks or something that her husband wrote," she explained, still uncertain. "At least, that's what I got from the loads of exposition that happened in the last scene, I mean." She took a sip from the bottle. "Thanks, by the way."

"Beats drinking alone," he said with an ironic little smile.

"If you can't beat them, join them," she quipped back, returning the smile.

"Here, here," he nodded, their bottles of beer clinking together in a brief salute.

After Marty sat back down on his side of the couch, they continued to watch the movie unfold before them. Despite stating earlier that the film was rivetting, it didn't take long for Rory's mind wander back to the conversation with her mother and how hurt Lorelai had sounded when the younger Gilmore girl had lost her temper. And all because her mother had been cajoling her to make a move on Marty, a move that Rory wasn't ready to make yet. She wanted Marty healed and over his Andy induced heartache before telling him how she felt.

But what if her mother was right? What would Rory do if Andy suddenly came back and reconciled with Marty? Would she be willing to once again sit on the sidelines and watch her heart's desire ride off into the sunset with someone else? Or would she fight for Marty's affection instead? After all, Andy had more or less given up her dibs on Marty when she ditched him at the altar.

Of course, there was also the chance that Marty wasn't romantically interested in Rory to begin with either, which was actually the first of two huge reasons for her hesitation now that Rory was being honest with herself. Just because he liked her in college didn't necessarily mean that Marty would want her now. What if Marty had outgrown her like Rory had outgrown her fondness for rich self-centered wannabe bad boys? And even if that wasn't the case and he did decide to begin a romantic relationship with Rory, there would always be that nagging feeling of being the second choice, of being the consolation prize. That was the second huge reason for her trepidation, the second huge reason why Rory had decided to wait until Marty was completely over his runaway bride. She only hoped that while waiting for Marty's heart to heal that Andy didn't decide to come back. She also realized this was an extremely selfish thought, one that made Rory feel horrible about herself because what sort of person wants that for the person they claim to love?

 _Still, that didn't give me any right to throw Mom's failed marriage to Dad in her face like that,_ Rory thought, unknowingly releasing a sigh of frustration.

"You want to talk about it?" Marty asked, startling her.

"Not really," she answered glumly.

"I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours," he offered in that trademark deadpan manner.

"That's not exactly the fairest of trades, Mr. Harrison," she pointed out.

"It is what it is, Miss Gilmore," Marty shrugged. "Besides, it'll help take my mind off my own troubles now that the movie's over."

"The movie's over?" Rory asked, surprised that she'd only noticed that now.

"Whatever it is that's bugging you must be huge if you're that distracted."

The journalist furrowed her brow at Marty and wondered how she could explain what happened between her mother and herself without revealing the cause of that problem, which were Rory's feeling for the man seated on the other end of the couch. After another moment of awkward silence had passed, an obviously uncomfortable Marty scratched his unshaved cheek. This action caused Rory to take notice of the beginnings to an almost Luke-like stubble growing there.

"If you don't feel like talking about it, we can always look for another mov-"

"Before I came over here, I kind of got into an argument with my mom over the phone," she interupted, her desicion made.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "About what?"

"Well, ever since I turned down Logan's proposal at graduation, I haven't exactly been the biggest dater," Rory carefully explained, not wanting to spill the beans about her feelings towards Marty yet. "In fact between then and now, I haven't had a serious boyfriend at all. Sure, I've dated a couple of guys, but none them really kept me interested beyond a couple of dates, you know?"

He nodded, but remained silent.

"Anyway, to make a long story short, she kept pressuring me to start dating again and I just sort of snapped on her, told her I wasn't ready to take that plunge," she half lied, her gaze dropping down between them. "And I know that doesn't sound all that bad and it isn't really, but then I had to go and make that stupid comment about her and my dad." She sniffled despite the story being half a lie. "I hate fighting with my mom. Especially when I know I'm the one who screwed up."

"I'm sure she knows you didn't mean it, Rory," Marty assured, the sudden touch of his hands on hers momentarily startling the reporter. Her bright blue eyes fell on where their hands met and slowly travelled up towards his sympathetic brown eyed gaze. Rory suddenly found herself fighting against a strong and almost undeniable urge to kiss him, barely managing to contain said urge by slipping her hands from his grasp and burying her blushing face in them. "Rory?"

"You must think I'm some sort of idiot," Rory sighed after a moment, dropping her hands away from her flushed face. "A grown woman whining about an argument with her mommy? Yeah, I'm completely pathetic, aren't I?"

"No, you're not," Marty reassured with a soft smile, looking a little less inebriated now than a half hour ago. "Look, I know that you and your mom are extremely close, so you being this upset makes all sorts of sense. I wish I had someone in my family that I was that close to."

"You have Dan," she pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess I do, don't I?" Marty chuckled.

"How you been holding up?" she asked, her hand placed gently on his shoulder.

"Honestly, I've been better," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I mean, in California, I was fine." Rory furrowed her brow to let him know that she knew that he was lying. He rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright, I was in denial. But when I got back..."

"But when you got back here, it hit you, didn't it?" Rory deduced.

"Like a sledge hammer to the temple," nodded Marty, his gaze dropping down like Rory's had earlier. His voice dropped to a rasp when he continued. "It wouldn't be so bad if every little damn thing here didn't remind me of her, you know? I mean, I bought this house thinking we'd...we'd..."

"I'm so sorry, Marty," Rory whispered, lithe arms drawn around him without a second thought. Her instinct to comfort the tall, curly haired man who'd captured her heart overriding her commonsense. He stiffened against her sudden embrace for a brief moment then relaxed in acceptance. They sat like that for what seemed like hours (though it was probably about five minutes at the most) before Rory pulled herself away enough to look him in the eye. The instant her eyes fell on Marty's face, Rory knew getting this close was a mistake. Even with this thought in mind though she couldn't pull away. The urge to kiss Marty had returned and it was much stronger than before.

He frowned at her, his expression perplexed. "Rory?"

"Andy's an idiot," she whispered, her hand reaching up to caress his cheek of its own volition.

"What?" Marty frowned, his obvious confusion deepening.

"Andy's an idiot," Rory repeated in a husky voice before lunging forward to capture his lips on her own, moaning deeply into Marty's mouth as their passion quickly escalated beyond the point of no return.

It was several hours later when Rory found herself staring up at the ceiling of Marty's guestroom, where they had spent those hours making love, that all the fears and doubts from earlier came rushing back to sour whatever joy this night had brought her. Rory stifled a sob before slipping out from under Marty's arm, berating herself for this massive error in judgement as she fumbled around for her clothes and hurriedly got dressed in the dim moonlight streaming through the drapes. Rory chanced one last glance back at Marty's prone form on the bed then headed downstairs and out the front door towards her Prius, once again berating herself for allowing her infamous but rarely used impulsive side to get the better of her at the worst possible time.

 _Looks like I really am the daughter of Christopher Hayden after all,_ Rory thought in disgust, not caring how her tears burned her cheeks as the cold winter wind froze them almost as quickly as they were shed.

* * *

 **Did you read it? Did you like it? Then leave a review. Thanks!**


	36. Just Call Me Captain Backfire

36 - Just Call Me Captain Backfire

 _I have to stop waking up like this,_ a hungover Marty groaned, the dull thrumming pain in his head telling him that he'd drinken a little too much the night before. He briefly wondered why he was waking up in the guest room of all places, but that question was quickly replaced by the realization that he was naked and how Marty had ended up that way.

"That is the last time I get drunk by myself," he promised, rubbing the center of his forehead with the index and middle fingers of his left hand in a circular motion. After finding his boxers and slipping them on, Marty stumbled from the guest room and headed towards the downstairs washroom in search of Tylenol (or similar pain reliever) in hopes of quelling some of the throbbing his head was experiencing. With that taken cared of, he decided to take a shower and then get dressed before tackling the task of cleaning up the mess that was the living room.

Marty marvelled at how many bottles of beer he'd managed to drink by himself until he came across a nearly empty bottle at the end of the coffee table, his sharp gaze immediately drawn to the light shade of lipstick on its rim.

 _"Beats drinking alone," joked Marty, handing his unexpected guest a beer._

 _"If you can't beat them, join them," Rory quipped back, accepting it with a smile._

"Rory was here?" Marty asked aloud, confused by the sudden hazy memory. He attempted to recall more but frowned when his mind refused to give up anything further. With a shake of his head Marty continued with the task of cleaning up the living room, taking all the empty bottles into the kitchen to place in the recycling bin. It was during the completion of this mundane task that Marty briefly worried that Rory had bore witness to his humilating strip show, but quickly dismissed the thought since there was no sign of Rory having stayed beyond the one drink she hadn't even finished in the living room.

He glanced at the clock on the wall and decided that he'd clean the guest room later since there were many errands that required his attention more at the moment, like speaking with Rob on starting a few days earlier than originally planned. It was best to keep busy and out of the townhouse right now in order to avoid another evening of feeling sorry for himself. One night of excessive drinking to drown his sorrows was quite enough. He had the hangover to prove it.

When he arrived at the office thirty minutes later Marty immediately noticed that a few of his co-workers were glancing at him with pity, which just served to annoy him to tell the truth. He rolled his eyes and continued towards Rob's office, choosing to ignore the so-called sympathetic expressions of his co-workers were sending his way for now.

"Well, this is certainly a surprise," Rob greeted when Marty entered his office. "I didn't expect you back until at least Thursday. How was California?"

"Hot," he deadpanned, more or less falling into the nearest empty chair.

"If you don't mind me saying," his boss continued, leaning back in his own chair. "You look like crap, kid."

"Thanks," Marty replied dryly.

"Good to see you've kept your sense of humor," the older man commented with a snort. "Anyway, what can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if I could come back to work a little early."

"Going stir crazy now that you're back, huh?" Rob said knowingly.

"Like you wouldn't believe," he sighed.

"Well, I did have one particular project lined up for you when you got back, so I don't see any harm in you getting a headstart on it now," his boss nodded, quickly adding. "Actually, the headstart will probably be necessary now that I think about it."

"I'll get right on it then," Marty rose from his chair. "Thanks, Rob."

"Don't mention it, kid," Rob said, then added as his subordinate reached the door. "And Martin?"

Marty paused, his hand around the doorknob. "Yeah?"

"You're going to be okay."

"Thanks," he nodded before exitting the office.

By the end of the work week Marty realized that Rob hadn't been exaggerating that he'd need the headstart on this latest project, which the formerly engaged architect was grateful for since it kept his mind off anything remotely Andy related. In fact, the project kept him so occupied that Marty had neglected to re-stock his fridge and cupboards with food.

 _Might as well head over to Park's for a few things,_ he decided, not in the mood for a serious trip to the supermarket. Marty was already tired and the thought of dealing with a long line up was not at all appealing. Better to grab a few things for a small supper tonight then do the serious shopping tomorrow. Besides Marty found grocery shopping on Saturday afternoons easier since he could relax and take his time instead of rushing back and forth like he'd be forced to do if he went now.

Marty entered the family run store and nodded in greeting to the teen girl at the till, who casually waved back at him before resuming to read the magazine on the counter top.

"Hey, Myung," a familiar voice greeted when Marty had arrived at the frozen foods section near the back of the store. "Guess what I forgot to buy last time I was here?"

"You know, for some one who claims to be addicted to that crap, you sure forget to buy it a lot," the teen cashier joked.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Rory laughed. That laughter came to an abrupt stop though when Marty turned to face her on his way to the till, the pair meeting in the aisle.

"Hey, Rory," he greeted following a long and awkward staring contest. "How are you?"

The reporter blinked at him, mouth slightly agape in surprise. "Uh..."

"I think the word you're looking for, Rory, is 'Hello, John Mayer look-alike, please let me have your babies!'" the cashier cried from her station. "Or something to that effect."

"Shut up, Myung," a now red-faced Rory Gilmore pleaded, her expression that of a person who wanted desperately to be somewhere else.

"You doing okay there?" Marty asked, confused by her behavior.

"I'm fine, Marty," she said, her blue eyes fluttering in rapid succession. "Why would you think I wouldn't be okay?"

"You're doing that weird blinky thing you do whenever you try to hide something," he answered with a smirk. "It makes you a very poor poker player, by the way."

"Sometimes I forget how well you actually know me," Rory muttered, uncomfortable.

Marty frowned. "I'm getting the impression that you're mad at me for something."

"No, no, it's nothing you did," she sighed then stiffened. "Wait a second. You don't remember anything from the last time we were together?"

"Not really," he shrugged.

"You mean to tell me that you don't remember what happened that night?" Rory whispered, her cerulean eyes widening. "Nothing at all?"

"No, just flashes here and there, but nothing all that detailed," he answered, completely at a loss to why the usually vibrant young woman standing in front of him seemed on the verge of tears. "Oh, crap. What happened?"

"I can't be here right now," she rasped, turning on her heel to practically run pell-mell out the door.

"What the hell just happened?" Marty asked aloud, still in shock.

"Your guess is as good as mine," answered Myung from the cash register. "So...paper or plastic?"

 _What the hell happened back there? What happened before that to cause that sort of reaction from Rory?_ Marty wondered apon arriving home several minutes later, the plastic bag containing his purchases placed on top of the breakfast nook. _What the hell is going on?_

"How do I fix this?" he groaned, once again at a loss. What he needed was to talk to Rory and find out what happened, but Marty doubted that was a viable option considering the outcome of their recent encounter at Park's Confectionary. _Damn, I really wish I hadn't drinken so much that night!_

He glanced at the frozen microwave dinner for a moment then opened the freezer and tossed it inside, his appetite abandoning him in lieu of the knot forming in the pit of his stomach.

"Screw it, I'm taking a nap," he muttered, his head beginning to ache from the sudden drama. His trek toward his bedroom ceased though when Marty arrived at the doorway of his guest room and the memory of how he awoke the next morning returned. He naturally assumed that Rory was gone before stripping down during his drunken stupor, but what if something else entirely different had happened?

With renewed interest Marty entered the guest room (which he'd neglected to clean during the week) determined to find something, anything that would give him a clue as to why Rory had been upset. It didn't take him long to discover two very compelling pieces of evidence, each pointing to the same conclusion. The first was a camisole that definitely did not belong to Andy since the blonde never wore them, preferring t-shirts and such clothing over the delicate item in his hand. The second was the waste basket. Or rather, the contents of the waste basket.

"Well, shit," Marty muttered, more or less falling onto the bed in shock.

* * *

 **Come on, Marty can't be the only person that has had that happened to them, right? I mean, we've all had that one drunken mistake we didn't realize until way later. What? I'm the only one? Hmm, does that make me a slut? I'm oddly alright with that.**


	37. Unexpected Company

37 - Unexpected Company

"So what you're telling me is that he doesn't remember any of it? Like, nothing at all?" Sarah said, seeking confirmation to all of what Rory had just told her. Rory simply nodded as she sat down limply beside her roommate, who wrapped an arm around her to console the depressed reporter. "That sucks, buddy."

"Yeah, it really does," she sighed, laying her head on Sarah's shoulder. "I just wish I knew what to do next. I mean, how exactly do I tell Marty that we slept together without it becoming completely awkward and uncomfortable?"

"Hate to break it to you, Gilly, but I don't think there is a way to bring it up without things becoming crazy awkward and uncomfortable."

"I know, I'm just wishing that there was," Rory lamented, still leaning against her friend. They sat like that for another moment or so until the reporter decided to change the subject. "So how's your relationship with the other Harrison coming along?"

"You know how long distance relationships are," the other girl answered with an annoyed sigh. "Not that what Dan and I have can actually be called a relationship, mind you. Hell, other than that one time we met in person, all of our conversations have been either through Facebook or Skype." Sarah paused. "By the way, I fixed the webcam on your laptop."

Rory leaned away in order to look her roommate in the eye. "My laptop has a webcam?"

"Yup, it's built right in," Sarah nodded.

"Huh, you learn something new everyday."

"This is true," her roommate agreed, rising from the couch. "Anyway, I should be heading over to Sutton's to pick up our supper, otherwise we'll both starve."

"While you're doing that, I'm going to see if I can get my mom or Lane to Skype with me," Rory said, pulling herself up to her feet. "Maybe I'll even get to talk to my little brother, if he's still up that is."

"All right, say hi for me," Sarah told her before rushing out the door.

"Will do," she answered, once again alone. Not wanting to dwell on her thoughts of Marty, Rory decided to attempt contacting her family and friends back east. She had just retreived her laptop from the kitchen table and finished placing it on the coffee table in front of her when there was a knock at the door. _That dumbass probably forgot her keys again,_ thought the journalist with a snort, only to go completely still at the realization that it could be Marty outside her apartment. That fear was quickly quelled though when a familiar female voice could be heard saying her name. Rory quickly opened the door. "Lexie?"

"Hey, Rory," the band manager smiled uneasily. "Long time no see, eh?"

"Uh, hey," she nodded. "What brings you here?"

"I actually came by to ask you a favor," Lexie answered. "But first I need to use your washroom because I've been holding it in since Dearborn Park."

"Be my guest," she stepped aside to allow her former rival's best friend to enter. "First door past the kitchen."

"Thanks, you're a lifesaver," the grateful band manager said while dashing into the apartment to use the washroom.

"No problem." Rory closed the door, then returned to what she's been doing before Lexie had shown up out of the blue. She had just completed creating a Skype account when her unexpected guest rejoined her. Lexie took the space that Sarah had vacated earlier, the band manager silently observing Rory unsuccessfully attempt to get her webcam working. "I thought Sarah fixed this," she muttered under her breath. "Some tech wiz she turned out to be."

"Where is that giantess of a roommate of yours anyway?" Lexie asked in an almost snide tone.

"I hardly think Sarah qualifies as a giantess at 5'10", Lexie," Rory scoffed, briefly pausing to wonder if there was any animosity between the two. She shook her head at the thought.

"That's five inches taller than me, so I'm sticking with the label," her guest returned. "So where'd Gigantor go?"

"Well, 'Gigantor' went to grab supper from Sutton's since it's her turn to buy," the journalist glanced at Lexie with an inquiring eye. "Do you have a problem with Sarah?"

"No, not really," sighed Lexie in what sounded like defeat.

Rory glanced at her in concern. "Lex?"

"It's nothing," the other girl assured. "Anyway, never mind about that and let's talk about that favor I mentioned earlier."

"Okay, shoot," she nodded, curious to see what this favor could be.

"I need you to tell me how Marty is doing since, well, you know," Lexie blurted out, inadvertantly causing Rory to wince. "Oh, that bad, huh?"

"Um, how's Andy doing?" Rory changed the subject, not wanting to think of Marty right now.

Lexie sighed. "She sounded miserable last time I talked to her."

"Oh? She's not in Chicago anymore?"

"No, she's back at her grandmother Marianne's home in Charlotte," Lexie rolled her eyes. "That woman is such an odious snob. It's a complete mystery how she's related to Andy."

"I can relate," Rory conceited, thinking back on meeting some of her less than friendly relatives whenever the Gilmores congregated.

"Well, now that I have the status report on Marty and checked up on you, I should be heading over to the boys' place for dinner," the band manager stated. "I'm not looking forward to telling them how the label might be dropping them now that Andy's quit the band."

"Andy quit the band?" Rory raised an eyebrow, shocked at the news.

"Actually, it would be more of an indefinite hiatus, but that's pretty much the same thing in the music business," explained Lexie, rising from the couch. "Want to meet for lunch sometime?"

"Yeah, sure," Rory agreed before her attention was drawn to the intercom buzzing again. She glanced over to where the phone was situated and noticed her roommate's keys there. "Huh, so she did forget her keys."

"Well, I'll get out of your hair and let you guys eat," her unexpected guest said, her hand patting her pockets while Rory walked over and hit the button that would allow Sarah to enter the building. "But first I need to grab my phone, which I...probably left in your washroom. Be right back."

 _Alone again,_ Rory sighed, wondering if she should invite Lexie to stay for dinner, even if her presence was an indirect reminder of what had happened between Marty and herself. She was just about to follow after Lexie to do that when there was a knock at the door. Rory shook her head. _Oh, that's right, Sarah forgot her keys._

"You have really got to stop forgetting your keys home whenever you leave," Rory chided while opening the door, only to go silent at the discovery of who was standing there. "What the hell are you doing here?"

* * *

 **Dun dun dun!**


	38. The Wrath of Alexandra Keaton

38 - The Wrath of Alexandra Keaton

"Nice to see you, too, Rory," Marty greeted. "Can I come in?"

"You should not be here," a nervous looking Rory closed the door behind herself while stepping out into the hall, her actions effectively answering that question. "Now is not a good time, Marty."

"And when is a good time? Because I've tried texting you and I tried calling you, so we can talk about what happened, but you keep avoiding me," he responded loudly. "I mean, we slept together and-"

A familiar voice cut in then to interupt him, the door swinging almost violently open to reveal an irrate Lexie Keaton standing there. "You guys did what?"

"Damn it," Rory swore under her breath.

"Please tell me that I didn't hear what I think I just heard," begged Lexie, her gaze shifting between them. "Please tell me you didn't sleep with him, Rory."

"Lexie, calm down," Marty began.

"You shut you're fucking mouth, I'm talking to Rory right now," his ex-fiance's best friend snapped, clearly not in the mood to be reasoned with. "Well?"

"I...uh, um," a guilty looking Rory sputtered.

"You fucking bitch," the other girl spat viciously. She took a menacing step towards the obviously frightened reporter, who backed up in anticipation of an attack of some kind.

"Okay, let's take this down a notch, Lexie," Marty interceded, placing himself between the two girls.

"Three weeks! Three fucking weeks! And you just pounced on him, didn't you?" Lexie shrieked while ignoring him and struggling to get at Rory, but Marty managed to restrain her. Albeit just barely. Unable to physically reach her immediate target, the band manager decided to stop trying and continue her verbal assault instead. "Some friend you turned out to be! I bet this was your plan the entire time, wasn't it? Wasn't it?"

"That's not true," the reporter whimpered.

"You know, before you showed up, all of our lives were pretty good," Lexie cried, angry tears slipping down her cheeks. "I worked with my best friend on something we both loved doing. Andy wrote the songs and sang them with her band while I produced their music and managed their gigs. And sure, we sometimes fought but we always knew where we stood with one another." She paused to wipe some of the tears away. "Then you showed up! Marty's pretty little friend from Yale, and everything went to shit. She started doubting her relationship with Marty. She started doubting her talent. She started doubting everything and everyone around her, even me!"

"Lexie, I..." Rory rasped, her blue eyes shimmering with tears.

"You've ruined everything," the shorter girl cut in with a sneer. "You're a horrible person and I hope you rot in hell, you sorry bi-"

"That's enough, Lexie," Marty interjected.

Lexie shook her head. "No, I'm not do-"

"I said that's enough," he insisted.

"But-"

"Shut. Up."

The two glared at each other for several seconds until Lexie finally backed down. She then spun on her heel and began stalking down the hall.

"Unbelievable," an obviously furious Lexie could be heard muttering as the door leading into the stairwell slammed shut behind her, which caused Rory to yelp in surprise from behind him. Marty turned to find a trembling Rory leaning against the wall, slowly sliding down until she was finally sitting on the floor in defeat.

"Are you okay?" Marty asked, coming to kneel down in front of her. Unable to speak Rory simply shook her head before letting out a sniffle. "I'm sorry. I should've stepped in sooner, but I was honestly in a bit of shock."

"She's right though," Rory rasped, a hand pressed on her forehead. "I am a horrible person."

"No, you're not," he protested.

She shook her head again. "Yes, I am, Marty. I mean, how could I not be?" She looked at him directly, her expression broken. "I took advantage of you when you were hurting and not thinking straight. Hell, if the roles were reversed, it could be construted as rape. Right?"

"You can't rape the willing, Rory," he joked weakly, only to receive a disapproving look from the girl he was trying to console. "Too soon?"

"Too soon," she agreed.

"I've always had a problem with timing," Marty deadpanned.

"You and me both," Rory sighed.

Marty sat down beside her, the pair of them falling into an awkward silence until the sound of the stairwell door caught both their attention.

"I just saw that Lexie girl stalk out the front door two minutes ago and, boy, let me tell you, did she look pissed," a familiar looking brunette said, a take-out bag in her hand. "Should I even ask what happened?"

"You're better off not knowing," Rory stated. She rose to her feet. Marty quickly followed suit. The trio stood around glancing at one another, none of them really knowing what to say next.

"I should be going," Marty said, finally breaking the weird stalemate they'd created. He looked at Rory. "I'm sorry that my just showing up caused all this."

"It's not your fault, Marty," she shook her head. "If I hadn't been avoiding you and had just sucked it up and talked to you earlier, this wouldn't have happened." Rory shook her again. "I had this coming, I think."

"I'm going to take this stuff inside before it gets cold," stated Rory's roommate (whose name Marty couldn't remember for the life of him at the moment). She glanced at him, a delicate eyebrow raised. "We have more than enough if you want to stay."

"I don't think that's a very good idea," Marty said, immediately noticing Rory's panicked expression at the sudden invite. "But thanks anyway." He gestured to the take-out bag. "Besides, have you ever seen Rory eat? That bag's not nearly big enough."

"True," the tall brunette agreed.

"You're both jerks," Rory chuckled weakly.

"I'm gonna go now," the architect said, then turned and began to walk away. He was halfway to the stairwell when Marty felt a tug at his sleeve. He turned to find Rory's roommate standing there. Nearly eye-to-eye no less.

"I don't really know what happened while I was gone, but thanks for being here for Rory," she smiled. "And just give her a little time, okay? She'll talk you when she's ready, Marty."

"Okay, thanks," he nodded before continuing on his way. When he arrived home fifteen minutes later, Marty sat down on his couch and stared up at the ceiling. He wondered how long he'd have to wait and hoped it wasn't too long because Marty feared that he may lose his mind in the mean time.

* * *

 **You have no idea how much fun I had writing Lexie's freak out in this chapter.**

 **Anyhow, please review. Thanks!**


	39. Biting Bullets & Moving Glaciers

39 - Biting Bullets & Moving Glaciers

 _I wonder what's taking him so long?_ Rory wondered impatiently, only to immediately chide herself for doing so. After all Marty had been waiting the entire week since the incident with Lexie in her hallway, so what right did Rory have to be annoyed at him being fifteen to twenty minutes late?

"Would you like another drink while you wait for your friend?"

"Hmm?" Rory glanced up at the young waitress who addressed her. She briefly studied the blonde girl's almost cherubic features before nodding her response. "Yes, please."

"Coming right up," the waitress grinned.

"Thanks," replied Rory, her attention once again on the restuarant's entrance. Just as the waitress returned with her drink, Rory's blue eyed gaze fell on a frazzled looking Marty entering through the door. "Finally," she said, releasing a sigh of relief.

"I'll grab you some menus," the waitress stated with amusement.

 _Great, now I'm being laughed at by some kid,_ the reporter scoffed with a roll of her eyes. _Thanks a lot, Marty!_

"Hey, sorry I'm late," her long awaited companion apologized in greeting, an ironic little smile playing on his lips. "You weren't waiting too long, I hope."

"Very funny," she chuckled without humor.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist."

"Yeah, well, I suppose I can't really blame you," admitted the reporter.

"Here are your menus, you two," the waitress announced, a lamenated menu handed to Rory and Marty in that order. She looked directly at the architect. "What would you like to drink, sir?"

"Iced tea would be great. Thanks," he replied.

"Be right back with that," she beamed.

"Is it just me or do all waitresses seem to like you?" Rory teased.

Marty shrugged. "I don't know. Never really noticed."

"You're so modest, M-"

"Martin? Is that you?"

Both of them turned at the cheery voice that had interupted Rory mid-sentence to discover that it was a wisp of a girl who appeared to be around sixteen years old at the most (and that was if you were being generous). Rory briefly wondered how such a young girl would even know Marty, much less be so excited to see him, but she couldn't come up with anything.

"Riese? What are you doing here?" Marty asked in mild surprise. He rose from his chair just as the girl arrived at their table to engulf the tall architect in a hug. Rory couldn't help but scowl at the sight, even though she knew there was no way Marty would get involved with a minor. No matter how pretty she was.

"Oh, I'm picking up dinner for the fam tonight," the girl explained, excitedly gesturing as they separated. "You wouldn't believe the amount of begging I had to do to get Daddy to let me come here by myself though, Martin. It was insane! He still treats me like a little girl. How crazy is that? I mean, I'm sixteen years old! I have a driver's license, for pity's sake. When is he going to get that through his head? I love the guy, but he drives me bonkers sometimes, you know?"

"Didn't you just get your license last week?" Marty quirked an eyebrow.

"So not the point, Martin," retorted the rapid speaking teenager. The girl turned her gaze to Rory all of a sudden, an inquisitive expression on her delicate features. "Oh, hello there. I'm Riese. And who might you be?"

"Uh, hi, Riese. I'm Rory," replied the reporter, who was slightly taken aback by the quick turn in the conversation. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise, Rory," returned Riese with a bright smile. "Hey, is it okay if I sit with you guys until my order's done? It won't be more than five minutes, I promise."

"I don't see why not," she agreed after sharing a glance with Marty, whose expression told Rory it was up to her. "Have a seat."

"Thanks!"

"No problem."

The three of them all sat down with the teenager taking the seat next to Rory on her right. The waitress arrived a moment later with Rory and Marty's drinks then left after inquiring if Riese would like a drink, which she refused since the teen claimed she wouldn't be there for very long.

"So, how do you two know each other?" Rory asked when all three of them were alone again.

"Daddy is Martin's boss," answered Riese, who was practically bouncing in her seat. "I used to hang out around the office whenever Mom was out of town and stuck me with Daddy." She grinned. "I used to get so bored and would bug the heck out of whoever had the bad luck of running into me. That's how I met Martin here, and the rest, as they say, is history."

"You get used to her after a while," Marty joked.

"Oh, please! I know you love me. I'm like the little sister you never had," the teen retorted with a casual wave of her hand. She shot Marty that megawatt smile again before turning back to Rory, that same smile not quite reaching her steely blue eyes now that they met the reporter's. "Which works out pretty well since he's the closest thing to an older brother I'll ever have. You know what I mean, Rory?"

"Um, yeah," she agreed, once again taken aback by this girl. Despite her initial sweet demeanor and innocent girl next door looks, Riese's warning for Rory to tread lightly was received loud and clear.

"Excellent," the girl clapped her hands happily, the previously mentioned innocent demeanor returning to the fore. "Well, it looks like my order is finished, so I'll leave you two to your dinner now. TTFN!"

"Okay, that girl is scary," an almost intimitated Rory stated when the girl had finally left the restaurant.

"She's not that bad," Marty defended.

"If she went to school to Chilton when I was there, I don't think even Paris would have messed with her. That has to tell you something."

Before Marty could reply, the waitress returned. "Are you ready to order?"

After the pair made their orders, they fell into a tense silence that neither seemed able or willing to break. As much as Rory wanted to broach the subject of them having slept together, she really didn't know how to begin. She was nervous and half tempted to scrap the whole idea all together. Bolting out of restaurant was a tempting option than having to talk about her indiscretion with the man seated across the table from her right now. She glanced up at him, her azure blue eyes meeting his hazel ones.

"So...how about that local sports team?" Marty joked in an attempted to quell the growing awkwardness.

It worked since Rory smirked in amusement. "Which one are you talking about? The Bulls? The Blackhawks? The Cubs?"

"You forgot about the White Sox," he smirked back.

"Well, I'm not all that sports savvy, so pardon the faux pas on my part, Mister Harrison."

"I guess I can forgive you this one time, Miss Gilmore."

"How generous of you," she laughed.

"All silliness aside though, Rory," Marty said, his expression turning serious. "I think it's time we actually talked about everything that's happened."

"Yeah, I suppose I've made you wait long enough, huh?" Rory agreed, a resigned sigh escaping her lips. "So where would you like to start?"

"Hmm, seeing how I woke up butt naked in my guest room with no memory of how I got there, I guess my first question would have to be why you left," he stated. "Was it that bad?"

"No, no, it was great," she assured with a slight blush.

He quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Don't act smug. It doesn't suit you," the reporter chided.

"Well, if it was 'great' like you said, then why did you leave before I woke up?" Marty inquired, once again serious.

"I left because it shouldn't have happened," she answered, then hastily added. "Don't get me wrong, Marty. I don't regret it happening. It's just...the timing was extremely off."

"Wait a second," he said. "So let me get this straight. You don't regret the actual act of sleeping with me, only the timing? Is that what you're telling me?"

Rory nodded. "Pretty much."

"Huh."

"Mar-"

"Just give me a moment to digest all this, Rory," he interjected, not unkindly. "Please?"

"Um, I'll just go and use the washroom really quick then," said Rory, desperately needing a breather despite the fact they had only started. "I'll be right back."

Without waiting for a reply from him, she rose from her chair and practically fled the table for the relative solitude of the Sutton's Bistro washroom. After entering the washroom and splashing water on her face at the sinks, Rory glanced up at her reflection. She briefly considered running again but immediately scrapped that idea. It was already too late for that option. Besides, this conversation was long overdue. She owed it to Marty to stick this out. The reporter dropped her gaze down onto the sink in order to rediscover her resolve, then returned that gaze to the identical face staring back at her in the mirror.

"Might as well bite that bullet, Gilmore," the reporter told her reflection before exitting the washroom.

"I was starting to worry you weren't coming back," Marty remarked when she returned to the table, where Rory noticed that their orders had arrived while she was gone. "Something wrong?"

"I wasn't really gone that long, was I?" Rory frowned, perplexed at how quickly their food had been prepared. _Did I really spend that much time psyching myself up?_

Her dining companion simply shrugged then stabbed his fork into whatever it was that he'd ordered, which honestly Rory couldn't remember because she had been distracted at the time. Hell, the journalist couldn't even remember what she had ordered herself, but Rory was willing to bet it was her usual dish, the veggie pasta. That in itself was odd since it was deemed healthy by most people, yet Rory almost always had it when she ate at or ordered from Sutton's. Weird.

"You alright?"

"Excuse me?" Rory glanced up from her dish (which was in fact the veggie pasta), momentarily startled before recovering. "Oh, I'm fine. Just a little distracted. Sorry." She nervously tucked a strand of stray hair behing her ear. "Anyhow, would it be alright if we got back to what we were talking about earlier?"

"Yeah, about tha-" Marty began.

"Please, Marty, let me say something first," she interupted, her hand up in a polite fashion. "Then you have the floor back."

"Sounds fair," he said, leaning back slightly in his seat.

"Thank you," Rory nodded back in appreciation. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, then let out a short, steadying breath before continuing. "Now we've already established that what happened between us was a mistake, but not because it happened. Let me make that absolutely clear, okay? It's just the timing that I have a problem with." Marty opened his mouth to speak, but Rory cut him off. "And before you ask, I didn't sleep with you out of pity."

He nodded. "Okay then."

"All that said," she continued in earnest, hoping to out pace her already dwindling resolve. "I wish I had waited though, Marty, because then this wouldn't be so damned complicated." Rory swallowed down the sudden lump in her throat. "And I wouldn't be the rebound."

"Is that what you're afraid of, Rory?" Marty asked, surprise being the only word that fit his current expression. "Of being the rebound?"

"Yeah, it is," Rory nodded, a sniffle escaping her despite the reporter's best efforts not to. "And can you really blame me? I mean, you were about to get married to your girlfriend of three years, and I was a complete wreck the entire time. Then suddenly you're not, and I'm still a wreck. But only now because I was worried about you." She paused to take a steady breath to calm herself down. "Then you came back and I'm suddenly worried that Andy will show up again. That you'll take her back and-"

"And that's how we ended up here," he finished.

"And that's how we ended up here," she repeated in confirmation. Rory gazed imploringly at him across the table, deciding then and there to lay all her cards down. "I want to be in a relationship with you, Marty, but that can't happen properly until you're over Andy. I won't be your consolation prize. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

He nodded, but remained silent.

"So if you're interested in this relationship happening, if you want to pursue this with me any further," Rory stated in no uncertain terms. "Then it's going to have to be slow. And when I say slow, I mean glacial slow. We're talking the Chenega Glacier in Alaska here, Marty. Are you okay with that?"

Marty frowned for a moment, then reached across the table to grasp her hand. She watched him entwine their fingers before glancing up to meet his gaze. "Does this answer your question?"

Unable to speak because she no longer trusted her voice from cracking, a very happy Rory Gilmore simply nodded back at him.

* * *

 **I don't really know much about glaciers, so I apologize if Rory's analogy didn't make any sense.**


	40. Short Circuited

40 - Short Circuited

"Are you free for dinner tonight?" Rory asked from beside the tall architect, the pair of them having just shared lunch together.

"Two meals in one day? Well, aren't we chugging along nicely," teased Marty.

"If that's your attitude, mister," she rolled her eyes in mock anger. "Then you can forget I even asked."

"What time should I show up?" he smiled, his larger hand grasping her smaller delicate one. He gave her hand a small squeeze.

She squeezed his hand back. "Seven o'clock sound good?"

"Sounds great," he nodded. The new couple arrived at Rory's Prius in the restaurant parking lot, where they shared a quick kiss.

Rory gazed up at him. "You need a ride back to work?"

"No, it's just a block and a half that way," he said, hiking a thumb over his shoulder. "I'll be fine. Besides, I could probably use the exercise."

"Okay, I'll see you tonight then," she smiled, the pair sharing another kiss before Rory entered her car.

"Can't wait," he smiled back as she closed her door. Rory looked at him through her window and gave Marty a little wave before pulling out of her parking spot. The acrhitect watched her leave for another moment then turned in the direction of the Thompson Group offices down the street. He began to hum a nameless tune during his short walk, only to snort at himself when he realized that he'd been humming in the first place. When he reached the crosswalk leading up to the office building where the Thompson Group was located, Marty couldn't help but think on how strange that it was just under two months since Andy had left him standing at the altar and here he was already in another relationship. And not with some random girl either. Marty was now dating none other than his college crush, Rory Gilmore. The girl who'd ripped his heart out not once but twice back when they were in Yale, both times by choosing a certain blonde douche over him. While approaching the office building he briefly wondered what would happen if Logan decided to suddenly show up in Chicago, but that thought was interupted by a distracted Marty almost bowling over a surprised young woman at the front doors. "Oh, sorry. Didn't see you there. You okay?"

"I'm fine, no thanks to you," she snapped, walking away indignant.

"Okay then," he muttered sheepishly. Marty glanced at his watch and swore under his breath when he noticed that his lunch break was almost up. He rushed towards the elevator and made it just in time to slide inside as the doors shut. Marty released a sigh of relief as he hit the button for his floor, then relaxed against the back of the elevator. A slow, familiar tune began to waft from the radio speakers overhead but Marty couldn't quite place it right away. When Marty could finally make out the lyrics of the song though, he clenched his jaw so hard that it actually started to hurt from the strain. The memory of deep green eyes, curly blonde hair and lithe arms holding him almost stole his breath. It caused Marty's chest to ache and his throat to tighten.

 _'...exits or offstage lines could_  
 _make me feel bitter or treat you unkind._  
 _Wild horses, couldn't drag me away..._  
 _Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away.'_

 _'I know I've dreamed you a sin and a lie._  
 _I have my freedom but I don't have much time._  
 _Faith has been broken...'_

"Hurry the hell up, you stupid elevator," growled Marty, desperately wanting to escape from this song that his former fiance had loved so much. He painfully blocked the song to the best of his ability, no doubt bringing strange looks from the two or three other people who were occupying the elevator with him. When the doors finally slid open Marty was out of there like a shot, almost bowling over several people on their way inside in the process. Upon arriving at his office the fuming architect practically slammed the door shut and more or less threw himself into his chair, brown eyes glaring out the window in fury. He didn't even look back at the door when somebody knocked and quickly entered unbidden, instead choosing to continue his stare down of the Chicago skyline.

"I was wondering if you'd ever reach the angry phase," remarked Rob, the door clicking shut softly behind him. "In fact, I thought you skipped it altogether." He paused. "Actually, I was hoping that you had." Rob shrugged. "Anyway, what set it off?"

"I'd rather not say," the fuming Marty said in a restrained voice, still maintaining his resentful vigil on the world outside.

"Well, you're no use to me in this condition," his superior stated without any further preamble. "Go home, calm down, and come back tomorrow, bright and early." Marty turned to protest, but Rob cut him off. "No discussion, Martin. Go home."

Without another word Rob left his subordinate's office, an action that Marty decided was probably best copied. It was no use arguing with Rob when he made up his mind anyway. After gathering his work (in case the urge to be productive took him over later on), Marty left his office as well and headed towards home like Rob had suggested.

About halfway home though an idea occurred to him, whether or not if it was a good one was up for debate. At the next red light he came upon Marty quickly grabbed his cellphone and brought up his contact list to search for a certain number, his intent one of both kindness and deception.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me," he answered, trying his best to sound ill. "I'm afraid I won't be able to make dinner tonight. I'm not feeling well. Might have been something I ate."

"Oh, I knew we should've ate someplace else," his new girlfriend grumbled, upset.

"It's not your fault, Rory. I did insist, after all."

She sighed. "Do you want me to come over?"

"No, I should be fine if I drink lots of fluids and rest," he assured.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. We'll just reschedule the dinner for tomorrow or the night after, okay?"

"Okay," she relented. "See you then, Marty."

"See you then, Rory," returned Marty before ending the call, feeling briefly guilty for lying until remembering why he was postponing in the first place. _It's better this way_ , he reasoned to himself. _Now I won't risk taking my anger out on Rory._ With that finished Marty continued the drive home, once more attempting to ignore the mass of mixed emotions now churning in his stomach. _Huh, guess my white lie is actually causing me to get sick. Who would have thought that was even possible?_

Once he got home Marty didn't really know what to do with this unexpected time off. Despite his indecision the architect couldn't bring himself to pick up the phone and explain to Rory why he had bailed on dinner, even though Marty desperately wanted to just that. Instead he sat down on his couch, face forward towards the flatscreen television. Though his simmering anger from earlier had abated some, it lingered still and was now directed more at himself rather than the memory of his former fiance. As the characters on whatever insipid show played out on the screen in front of the architect, Marty wondered how he could allow a simple song get the better of him. Suddenly feeling emotionally exhausted, he decided to rest his eyes for moment.

It was an undeterminable time later when a startled Marty sat up straight in his seat, the knock at the door bringing him back to reality with an unpleasant jolt.

"Never realized how uncomfortable this couch is," he muttered under his breath while rising to answer the door, his aching body telling him that Marty needed to exercise more often. It was with that thought in mind that he opened the door and quickly had to step back in avoidence of his girlfriend's sudden entrance. "Rory?"

"Alright, I know you said that I didn't have to come over tonight," she babbled in her trademark fashion. "But with our dinner cancelled, I honestly had nothing better to do and I was worried about how you're doing. Especially when I realized that you had left work early because of whatever this is that's made you sick."

Marty shut the front door and followed her into the living room, taking note of the white paper bag that Rory had deposited onto the coffee table on her way into the kitchen.

"What's in the bag?" he asked.

"I stopped by the pharmacy on the way here," she answered from the next room. "Grabbed some stuff for upset stomachs and such. Pepto. Gravol. You know, that sort of stuff." The reporter re-entered the living room, a full glass of water in her left hand and a spoon in her right. She placed both on the coffee table, then pointed to the couch. "Sit, please."

Marty complied with a soft grunt, his weight causing the couch to groan lightly underneath him. As he watched Rory rifle through the paper bag for whatever stomach medication she believed Marty would need, the architect's guilt returned to plague him. "Rory..."

"Here, swallow these and take a sip of water," she cut him off, two pills held out in her palm. "Then I'll go make you some chamomile tea. I remember Luke telling me that chamomile tea is good for nausea and upset stomachs."

"Rory, that really isn't ne-"

"It's fine, Marty, I'll be right back," Rory interupted again, depositing the medication in his hand before getting up to disappear into the kitchen.

"Damn it," he muttered, leaning back into the cushioned couch to stare up at the ceiling. A tired, almost ragged sigh escaped his lips. Caught in a lie that was meant to avoid potentially hurting the woman in the room, Marty knew now that coming clean was his only option. He just hoped that Rory wouldn't be too angry or hurt by his actions. After setting the pills down beside the glass of water atop the coffee table, he decided to wait for his girlfriend's return. Marty didn't have to wait long.

"Why didn't you take those?" she asked, immediately noticing the discarded meds.

"I don't need them," he stated matter-of-factly. "Never did. Not really, anyway."

Her delicate brow furrowed, bemused. "What do you mean?"

 _There's that naivete again,_ Marty thought as she sat down in the space next to him. The achitect remembered the last time he'd encountered this particular trait of Rory's, back when he'd helped her look for that Anna girl during their sophomore year at Yale. She had been endlessly complaining about Logan and wondering why he was targetting her. After having to listen to her whine for the entire duration of their search, Marty finally lost his temper and ended up calling her annoying for being so damned naive. It wasn't a pleasant memory since it marked the beginning of the end of their friendship at the time. He sincerely hoped this moment wouldn't mirror that one, especially now that he and Rory were more than simply friends.

"Marty?" she asked, her bemusement now turned to concern. "What's going on?"

 _Might as well get this over with, for better or worse,_ the architect morosely decided, his brown eyes meeting those imploring azure ones. "I can't really think of any other way of saying this, so I'll just put it plainly. I didn't cancel on our plans because I got food poisoning. I cancelled because I didn't want to risk starting an argument."

"I'm not quite following what you mean," the usually sharp minded reporter stated. "What could we possibly get into an argument about, Marty? What happened between our lunch and now that cou-" She paused mid-sentence. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"No, I'm not having second thoughts," he denied.

"Then quit being so damn cryptic and tell me what the heck is going on!" Rory demanded, her patience finally at its end. Their gazes met again and Marty could see she was more anxious than angry. "I'm sorry. I'm just..."

"I know," finished Marty with a nod of understanding. "Me, too." They shared another glance before he continued. "After you left and I headed back to work, things were fine. I was looking forward to our dinner, I was even humming." He chuckled despite himself. "Then I got into the elevator and that's when my mood changed."

"What happened in the elevator?" she asked, laying a hand atop his own.

Marty grasped her hand and let out a sigh. "The radio was playing 'Wild Horses'."

"One of Andy's favorites," Rory guessed.

"I just got so mad," he rasped, his voice strained by emotion. "Mad at her for leaving, then mad at myself for still letting her get to me like that. Then I remembered everything you said when we started dating and I-"

"Shh, you don't need to explain anymore, Marty," Rory softly interjected, index finger pressed ever so lightly on his lips. "I get why you cancelled now. I get it." She gave him a small reassuring smile, her hand slowly lowered to lay onto his thigh. "And I'm not mad at you."

"Really? If I were you, I'd be furious," he remarked.

"Okay, I admit, I'm not exactly thrilled by this news," the blue eyed brunette confessed. "But furious? No." Rory raised her hand and caressed his cheek. "This is one of the reasons why I insisted we take things as slow as we've been taking them though. To give you time to heal." She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his in an almost chaste kiss, then went back to caressing his cheek after they separated. They gazed at each other for several more moments until Rory broke the comfortable silence. "I love you."

"What?" Marty blinked in surprise, not at all expecting that admission. From the expression on his girlfriend's face, it looked like Rory hadn't meant to divulge that information either. "Rory..."

"I should go now," a panicky Rory stated, practically jumping from the couch like it had been lit aflame. "Sarah's probably wondering where I went." She gathered her purse from the coffee table, almost dropping it in her haste to escape. "Good night, Marty!"

"Good night," a dumbfounded Marty whispered back to the empty space now before him, the front door closing loudly behind his retreating girlfriend.

* * *

 **Nice job sending Marty those mixed messages, Rory. No wonder his brain went poof at the end there.**


	41. Seriously

41 - Seriously

 _I can't believe I just blurted it out like that_ , a panicked Rory thought, her azure eyes wide while on the way towards her Prius. _What the hell was I thinking? He must think I'm a complete psycho now!_ She stuffed a hand into her hastily grabbed purse to fish out the keys to her parked vehicle, only to spend nearly a minute digging around in search of them with no success. _Where the hell are they?!_

"You lose something?" Marty asked from behind her.

"Oh, my God! Don't do that!" Rory shrieked, heart pounding hard in her chest from his sudden appearance. "You scared the crap out of me!"

"Sorry about that," he grinned sheepishly, her car keys dangling from his held up left hand. "You need these?"

"Yes, thank you," she began, but frowned up at her boyfriend when he pulled them away just beyond her reach. "Come on, Marty."

"Not until we talk about what just happened back there," Marty stated.

"But-" Rory started to protest.

"Come on, Rory," he reached out to grasp her hand with his right one, an almost pleading expression on his face. "Please?"

"Alright," the reporter relented with a sigh, unable to resist.

"Let's head inside," Marty suggested, leading Rory back towards the townhouse by the hand. "I'm not exactly dressed for talking outside in this weather."

"Right," she agreed, just now noticing that he wasn't wearing a jacket. When a brief but strong gust of wind blew by to cause Marty to shiver slightly, Rory felt guilty for making him follow her outside in such an ill prepared state. _Great! Now not only am I crazy, but inconsiderate. What a wonderful girlfriend I'm turning out to be!_

"Chicago's really living up to that 'Windy City' nickname," he joked, still leading back to the townhouse. He glanced back at her, smiling. "Don't you think so?"

Rory smiled back, albeit hers was a little bit forced. "I suppose it is."

Without another word the couple re-entered the townhouse, hand in hand, until they reached the living room, where they went to opposite ends of the couch. It didn't take long for the earlier awkwardness to return. Even though Marty had initiated this conversation, it was quite apparent that he was struggling to find the right words to begin. So instead Rory decided to take control of the situation, if only to get the whole thing out in the open.

"Okay, you're obviously still in shock," she babbled, nervous. "Which isn't really all that surprising when you consider how I've been constantly advocating for us to take things slow, so me just blurting out those 'three big words' like that must have really be-"

"You need to calm down, Rory," Marty cut in, who had moved forward across the couch enough to grasp her hands. "Just take a deep breath and relax."

"But-"

"Seriously, you're starting to look really freaked out," he insisted, the light grip on her hands now released. "Relax."

 _That's easier said than done, Marty,_ sighed the reporter, her rapid heart thumping hard against the inside of her rib cage. After what seemed like an eternity, Rory finally felt calm enough to continue. "You must think I'm a complete psychopath right now."

Marty let out a soft chuckle. "No, not a complete psychopath."

"Well, thank God for that," she rolled her eyes.

"Seriously though, Rory," her boyfriend said. "I don't think you're a psychopath. I am wondering if you meant what you said though."

"Of course, I did," the nervous reporter admitted, shyly tucking some of her loose hair behind an ear. "I have for quite a long time, actually. I've just been...suppressing it."

"Suppressing it?" Marty frowned in confusion.

"Yeah, suppressing it," she confirmed with a nod. "Ever since you told me you were going to propose to Andy."

His frown deepened slightly. "Seriously?"

"You're using that word a lot," Rory pointed out. "It's starting to get annoying."

"Seri...sorry," he apologized, catching himself before continuing. "I'm just...at a loss of what to say next, Rory."

"Right there with you," sighed the journalist.

"I mean, the me from four or five years ago would be completely thrilled to have this happening, because it's pretty safe to say that I had it pretty bad for you in Yale," Marty admitted with a rueful little smile. "And that's not to say I don't still have some of those feeling lingering about. We wouldn't be where we are now if I didn't, but-"

"But you're also still in the process of getting over your fiance," finished Rory while combing delicate fingers through her hair. She licked her lips then continued in earnest. "I don't expect you to say it back, Marty. I know you're not there yet."

"I'll try not to keep you waiting too long," he promised, completely sincere.

"I know you won't," she said with something between a sniffle and a laugh. "Thank you."

"No, thank you, Rory," her boyfriend whispered, his hands up to cradle her face. He gently brushed the unexpected tears away with his thumbs. "I don't know how I'd have gotten through all the crap I've been through the last couple of weeks if you weren't here."

Unable to think of anything to say to that sentiment, Rory reached up to pull his hands away from her face before sweeping in to kiss him. It didn't take long for things to escalate as the couple began pulling at each other's clothes.

"Upstairs," a gasping Rory commanded between kisses. "Take me upstairs."

Marty paused for a moment to meet her gaze. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," she nodded, deciding to go all in. Rory let out a shivering breath while rising from the couch, her hand outstretched towards him. The architect nodded back then slipped his hand into hers and allowed Rory to lead him upstairs.

It was sometime around midnight when Rory once again found herself staring up at the ceiling, though unlike the previous time she was in this position the reporter wasn't plagued by the doubts and fears that had ruined their first coupling. When Marty placed an arm around her waist in his sleep, she couldn't help but smile at him in the near darkness.

 _If this is a dream, I don't ever want to wake up,_ Rory thought, gently caressing her practically comatose boyfriend's face before allowing sleep to overtake her.


	42. The Best Friend's Gambit

42 - The Best Friend's Gambit

 _Why did I agree to this?_ Marty wondered to himself, the architect seated alone at the bar of the Comet Club at one o'clock in the afternoon. The fact that the establishment was actually open this early in the day was a surprise in itself, but not nearly as much a surprise as to why Marty had come here in the first place. _Where the hell is she?_

No sooner than a second after finishing that thought, the woman in question entered from the street, her rich brown hair wet from the spring rain that had recently struck Chicago. Despite the near monsoon conditions that had hit the Windy City as of late, it was a welcome change from the unusually harsh winter the citizens had endured. He'd take rain over snow any time.

"Wow, you actually showed up," the woman greeted. "Color me surprised."

"Hello, Lexie," he returned, trying to keep the annoyance from his voice.

"You been waiting long?" Lexie questioned, her tone pleasant.

Marty shook his head. "No, not really."

"That's good. I'd really hate to take up too much of your time," she smiled at him, the girl's cheerful, friendly attitude starting to unnerve Marty. It was quite the drastic difference from the pure, unadulterated rage that Lexie had displayed the last time he'd seen her. "You're probably wondering why I asked you to meet me here, huh?"

"The thought had crossed my mind," he admitted.

The former manager of the Ragged Dolls looked away. "So how's Rory doing?"

"Don't go there, Lex," he warned.

"Look, I only ask because I feel bad for how I tore into her the last time I saw her," Lexie sighed, signalling the bartender over. He must have been new since Marty didn't recognize him. Then again it had been nearly four months since Marty had been inside the Comet Club, the most recent time being his engagement party to Andy on New Year's Eve. Funny how much things could change in such a short matter of time.

The bartender arrived a moment later, his expression inquisitive. "Yes?"

"I'll have scotch, neat," ordered Lexie.

"Coming right up," he nodded, then turned to Marty. "Need another iced tea, sir?"

Marty politely waved off. "I'm fine, thanks."

"So, you didn't answer my question," she stated when they were once again alone, swirling the liquor in her glass around before taking a small sip.

"Rory's fine," he answer in a curt tone.

"That's good to hear," Lexie nodded. "I'd apologize to her in person, but the truth is, I don't trust myself enough not to lose my temper again. I'm still pretty pissed at her for what happened."

"I may have not been completely in my right mind at the time, but I was still a willing participant," an irritated Marty said in defense of his absent girlfriend. "I'm just as much to blame for what happened as Rory. So I'd appreciate it if you'd stop trying to pile all the blame solely on her."

"From the way you're defending her honor, I guess it's safe to say that you two are a couple now," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I wonder how she feels about being the rebound?"

"Alright, I'm out," Marty groused, about to leave in order to avoid another ugly confrontation.

"No, wait, I'm sorry," Lexie apologized, hand grasping his sleeve to prevent him from walking out the door. "That was out of line."

"Yes, it was," he almost sneered, not bothering to hide his displeasure. "You asked me to meet. I didn't have to come, you know."

"I know," the former band manager sighed, clearly frustrated. "I'm just...I don't know." His former fiance's oldest friend let out another frustrated sigh, releasing her hold on his sleeve in the process. "Nothing makes sense to me anymore." She paused to take a sip from her glass. "I know it's stupid to live vicariously through other people, but that's what I did with you and Andy. As long as I knew you guys were together, I was happy. And now it looks like I'm the one most broken up about things not working out." Lexie drained the scotch. "It's like my parents' divorce all over again."

"I don't mean to sound unsympathetic, Lex, but that still doesn't answer my earlier question," he stated. "Why did you want to meet?"

"Because unlike my parents' divorce, I have the power to fix things this time," Lexie proclaimed, removing something from her coat pocket. After getting a better look at it, Marty saw that it was the band manager's business card. "You can reach Andy at the number I've written on the back."

A hesitant Marty flicked it over, his eyes widening in shock at the number. "She's at Marianne's?"

"It's the one place she knew you'd never look for her," she confirmed with a nod. Lexie slid off her stool, readying to leave.

"Where are you going?" Marty asked, more than a little thrown by this developement.

"California. Got offered a job at a label," answered Lexie, zipping her jacket up before laying a hand on his shoulder. "It's time I started living my own life, but not before I helped my friends get their own back on track." She smiled at him with affection. "Go get our girl back, Harrison. Bring her home."

A still reeling Marty watched the former band manager saunter out of the Comet Club, then glanced down at the business card in his hand. The architect shook his head after another moment, not knowing how he should proceed.

"Damn it, Lexie," he swore.

* * *

 **Reviews would be awesome. Thanks!**


	43. Deluge

43 - Deluge

"Hold on, hold on, I'm coming," muttered a drowsy Rory as she was more or less shuffling into the living room in search of the cordless phone receiver, its ringing having woken the reporter up from an unexpected evening nap. When she finally located it, Rory pressed the talk button and put in up to her ear. "Hello?"

"It's about time you answered your phone, Gilmore," the annoyed and unmistakable voice of Paris Geller scolded over the line. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you to pick up?"

"Are you channelling my grandmother? Because you sound an awfully lot like her right now, Paris," sighed a still tired Rory, not quite knowing why she'd been so fatigued as of late. Maybe she was pushing herself too hard? Whatever. It didn't matter right now. "Anyway, what do I owe the pleasure?"

"What do you mean? Didn't your invite get there yet? I sent it to you through a courier so it wouldn't get lost! I swear if they lost that invite, I am going to rip the head of that company a new one," the blonde doctor growled.

"Hold on, I see some stuff on the table," she told her friend, sifting through the various envelopes placed on the kitchen table. "Bill. Bill. Another bill. Oh, look another bill. What color would this envelope be, by the way."

"Lavender with a floral design that's a slightly darker shade of lavander," Paris informed her.

"Sounds fancy," the reporter mumbled until the blonde's words from earlier clicked in her head, causing Rory to stop dead in her tracks. "Wait. Did you say invite? An invite to what? Your birthday isn't for another three months, if I remember correctly."

"You just had to pick now to go brain dead on me," the other former Yale graduate muttered. "It's for my wedding, Rory!"

"So you and Doyle finally picked a date? That's great, Paris!" Rory cried in excitement. "When are you guys getting hitched?" Just as she asked, the journalist located her quarry. "Hey, I found it!"

"Well, open it and find out," ordered Paris, her voice sounding almost nervous.

Rory shrugged off that notion and did what her friend requested, only to frown at the date written on the beautifully decorative invitation. "That's...awfully close. What? Did Doyle get you pregnant or something?"

"Would you think any less of me if I said yes?" Paris asked back.

A stunned Rory found that she needed a seat at that moment, which were luckily in abundance since she was standing near the kitchen table. "Wow. That's...really great?"

"You don't sound excited," said her old classmate in that familiar dry and skeptical way only Paris Geller could possibly hope to pull off.

"I'm just a little surprised," she admitted, glad to be sitting down now. "Wait, you're not-"

"No, I am not marrying Doyle for the sole reason that he got me pregnant, Gilmore," an affronted sounding Paris cut in, seeming to know what Rory had been about to ask her. "We've been engaged for nearly three years and together for twice that long, so this shouldn't be a huge surprise for everybody! So what if we're getting married before I finished my residency like we originally planned? So what if our wedding is a little ahead of schedule? We were planning to get married eventually anyway! Why is everybody acting so scandalized by this?"

"I take it from the length of that passionate rant that some people have been giving you a hard time about this?" Rory guessed.

"Yes," the young doctor confirmed with a tired sigh.

"Well, just so you know, I'm not judging here, Paris," she soothed. "I'm only trying to make sure that you're certain about this."

"I know, I'm sorry. Stupid hormones are making me crazy and cranky," the other woman sighed again. "Add in my mother's snarky comments from half a world away and I end up snapping at the wrong person."

"Completely understandable," Rory chimed in.

"You're always so patient when it comes to dealing with me. I guess that's why I'll always consider you to be my best friend, Rory," Paris continued with uncharacteristic emotion in her voice. "God, stupid hormones!" The blonde half laughed, half sniffled. "Anyway, before my stupid hormones end up making me a blubbering mess, I need to ask you to do something very important for me."

"You're the bride-to-be, so just name it and I'll do it," the reporter promised into the receiver.

"Would you be my maid-of-honor?" Paris asked hopefully.

"It would be my pleasure, Paris Geller, soon-to-be McMasters," Rory accepted, smiling into the receiver.

After having an excited Paris go over her itinerary over the last thirty minutes on what she wanted Rory to do in preparation for the wedding next month, Rory placed the cordless into its cradle to recharge and then walked into her kitchen for a snack. She had just grabbed an apple from the fridge and headed back into the living room when the sound of the front door opening caught her attention, notifying her that Sarah had returned from wherever she had been.

"Hey, roomie," the tall brunette greeted on entering. "You seem chipper and much more rested than when I left. Good nap?"

"It was all right, I suppose," Rory nodded while sitting down on the couch. "But if you must know, I just got some exciting news from an old friend."

"Oh, does this have anything to do with the fancy envelope that arrived this afternoon?" Sarah ventured, seating herself on the opposite end of the couch.

"Yeah, turns out my friend, Paris, is getting married next month," grinned the first girl. "And she asked me to be her maid-of-honor!"

"That's sounds pretty freaking awesome, Gilly," her roommate smiled while grabbing the nearest throw pillow in order to hug it like a stuffed animal. "But I do find it odd that she didn't give you much time to prepare. What's up with that?"

Between bites of her apple, Rory quickly explained the bride-to-be's circumstances.

"And even though Paris didn't give me a lot of notice, I am pretty excited to by all this," she finished with a smile. "And I'll be more than happy to endure a little bit of hassle if it means I can be there for her."

"So, will Marty be joining you there?" Sarah asked as Rory finished off her apple and set the remains on the coffee table.

"I...don't know," Rory admitted, then quickly added. "I'd assume so since he's my boyfriend and all, but I haven't had the chance to pass this by him yet." The reporter paused for a moment to frown in consideration.

Her roommate reached over to grasp Rory's hand. "What's the matter?"

"I'm not really sure if it's anything to worry about, but he's been, I don't know, distracted," she elaborated. "Like there's something huge on his mind, you know?"

"You want me to have Dan do some digging?" Sarah offered. "We both know he'd be more than happy to needle his brother until Marty finally breaks."

"No, thanks, I'm just being paranoid," sighed Rory with a soft chuckle. "He did mention that Rob gave him some important project, so that's probably it. No need to get Dan involved."

"Suit yourself," her newest friend shrugged. "Anyway, while we're on the subject of Dan, I have something I need to pass by you. Or rather, break to you."

"Please tell me you're not pregnant, too," Rory joked.

"We've had to have had sex first in order for that to happen, Gilly," she returned jovially. "Didn't that Ivy League school teach you anything about human biology?"

"Yes, I'm well aware of how that works, but that's besides the point. Now, you were saying?"

"Right, back on topic," Sarah stated, suddenly anxious. It was rare for the confident girl across from Rory to get anxious, so the journalist was definitely intrigued now. "So, you know how I've been bitching about my lack of hours as a computer tech at the Tribune, right? Especially after how that whole tech show deal went to shit in Tampa." She paused to compose herself, the memory of how that potentially fantastic opportunity fell through was still a sore spot for Sarah. Rory couldn't blame her for still being angry either. From what little Sarah had told her about what happened, the son of the station's owner had sexually harrassed her on an almost daily basis and basically caused her to lose her job when Sarah refused his advances.

Rory laid a hand over her roommate's. "You okay, buddy?"

"I will be," Sarah nodded, once again composed. "Anyway, Dan talked to a friend of his who needs a new host for a show that deals with comics, gadgets and stuff."

"Kind of like that 'Attack of the Show', you're always watching?" Rory asked.

"Pretty much," the other girl nodded.

She squeezed Sarah's hand. "Sounds right up your alley, Riley."

"It's in California though," her roommate said, almost apologetically.

"And I'd hate to see you go, but this sounds like an opportunity way too good to let pass by," Rory said, then added softly. "Don't let what happened in Tampa ruin this for you, Sarah. It'll be different this time, I promise. Besides, you'll have Dan nearby to lean on, so everything will perfect."

"I'm going to miss you, Gilly," Sarah rasped, leaning forward to hug Rory with all her might. "Thank you for putting up with me for so long."

"Don't mention it, Riley," Rory whispered back, a little choked herself. "Now enough of all this good-bye stuff. You haven't even left yet! So why don't we grab ourselves some junk food and watch some movies? What do you say?"

"That sounds great," her friend agreed.

Three hours and a better part of two movies later found a once again drowsy Rory struggling to keep her eyes open, despite the fact that the movie playing out onscreen was rather intense. She glanced over at her already comatose roommate snoozing on the other end of the couch, then back at the television where Old Boy, a film Sarah claimed to have seen a hundred times since it first came out, was reaching its end onscreen.

"You have real twisted taste in movies," a yawning Rory remarked to her sleeping friend, more than a little disturbed by how the film ended regardless of how tired she was at the moment. After she had turned off both the dvd player and television, Rory began to head towards her bedroom when the telephone rang. She picked up the nearby cordless as swiftly as possible in hopes of preventing it from waking Sarah, the receiver pressed up against her ear following only a single ring. "Hello?"

"I have amazing news," her mother stated excitedly over the line.

"You do realize it's almost midnight here, don't you?" Rory groused, shuffling into the next room so as not to disturb the slumbering Sarah. While she was beyond grateful that her mother had forgiven Rory's horrible slip of the tongue several weeks ago, all the reporter wanted right now was to go bed. Leave it to her hyperactive mother to put the kabosh on that plan. "Meaning it's nearly one there."

"What's the matter, babe?" Lorelai quizzed.

"I'm just a little exhausted. It's been a pretty long couple of days. Nothing to worry about though," she assured, continuing towards her bedroom. "Anyway, what's this amazing news? Did you finally manage to convince Taylor to step down as town selectman?"

"Oh, like that megalomaniac would ever let go any of what little power he actually has," her mother snorted in amusement. "No, guess again, my eldest loin fruit."

"We've talked about the whole loin fruit thing, remember?" Rory reprimanded. "And no, I'm not playing a guessing game, Mom. I'm too tired."

"So you and Marty have finally gotten to that point in the relationship, have you?" Lorelai teased, her obvious smirk almost audible over the phone.

"I'm going to hang up in three seconds if you don't stop being gross," the reporter groaned, the soft matress which she now sat upon feeling so inviting to her right then.

"Alright, alright, spoil sport," griped her mother. "Anyway, you know April, right?"

"Yes, I am familiar with my step-sister," she confirmed.

"And you know how she's been looking into nearby campuses in order to be closer to Luke once she starts university in the fall?" Lorelai continued.

Rory smiled. "I'm taking it that she got into one of the really good ones if you're making such a big deal about this."

"Not just any of the good ones, Rory," the other Gilmore girl said, excitedly. "April's going to Harvard!"

"Wow, that's...fantastic," the Yale graduate replied, a little stunned by the news. Before Rory had decided to attend Yale instead, her dream since childhood had been that of going to Harvard.

"Hello? Rory? Are you still there?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry," apologized Rory. "Spaced out there for a sec."

"Okay, kid. Out with it," Lorelai ordered.

Rory frowned. "What?"

"Whatever it is that has you so distracted," her mother elaborated.

"It's nothing, Mom," she denied. "I'm just really tired."

"Rory."

"Mom."

"Please tell me what's wrong, sweets," Lorelai pleaded when her stern tone didn't do the trick.

Rory was briefly tempted to stave off, but decided to relent instead.

"You ever get that feeling your life is going nowhere?" she sighed. "Oh, I know I shouldn't complain. I've got it good. I have my dream job. I have Marty. But with everything that's happened today, I feel like I'm being left behind. Like I'm at a stand still while everybody else is moving forward."

"That's not the only thing bothering you though, is it?" Lorelai prodded, somehow knowing there was more to it than that.

"I mean, I'm twenty seven years old, Mom. I feel like I should be married and having kids by now," she lamented, palm flat against her forehead. "What I wouldn't do to be in April's shoes right now, to have that much time again." Rory released another soft sigh. "Mom?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"Do you think I made a mistake by going to Yale instead of Harvard like we originally planned?"

"No, I don't, Rory," the older Gilmore stated after a quiet moment of consideration. "Because if you hadn't gone to Yale then you wouldn't be the successful person who you are today. Sure, I could've gone without the whole not talking to each other for almost a year thing, but thems the breaks. Also, if you hadn't gone to Yale, you wouldn't have met Marty. Am I right?"

"Yeah, I suppose you are," the reporter agreed.

"Speaking of your beau," her mother segued. "How are things going between you and Naked Guy? Now that you're a bonafide couple, I mean."

"We're good," Rory said, then added. "For the most part, that is."

"Hmm?"

"I seem to have become one of those girls who are completely ecstatic when their boyfriend is around but utterly riddled with doubts when he's not," she explained, unable to prevent herself from venting now that her mother had all but encouraged the journalist to do so.

"Has Marty given you any reason to make you doubt him?" Lorelai queried.

"Other than being distracted by some project at work, no," a sheepish Rory admitted, feeling ridiculous now that she'd mentioned it. "I just can't help it though. I don't want to doubt him, but-"

"You want my advice, kid?" Lorelai interupted.

She nodded. "Of course."

"Give him space. Don't push him. If whatever it is that's distracting Marty is caused by work, then this'll blow over and you've worried for nothing," her mother advised.

"And if he's still distracted after that?" Rory wondered aloud.

"Then bring it up, ask him how you can help. Just whatever you do, Rory, do not, I repeat, DO NOT give him an ultimatum," Lorelai warned. "Otherwise, you could end up pushing away Marty the same way I pushed away Luke. And we both know how close I came to really screwing the pooch on that one, don't we?"

"Oy, with the pooches already!"

"You must be a wreck if you're messing up our catchphrase like that," chuckled the elder Gilmore girl. "Go to bed, babe."

"Thanks, I will, Mom," she smiled, feeling lighter now. "Give Luke and Billy my best."

"No problem," Lorelai replied. "Oh, and Rory?"

"Yeah?"

"You're going to be okay."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Good night, Mom."

"Good night, kiddo."

With that conversation finished, Rory pressed the end button and cradled the cordless receiver against her chest. Her fatigue from earlier swiftly overtook Rory, the faint rumbling of her cellphone atop the night stand going nearly unnoticed as darkness rushed in like an avalanche to devour the reporter's consciousness whole.


	44. A Familiar Set of Choices

44 - A Familiar Set of Choices

"Yeah, I just pulled up to your building a second ago," Marty told his girlfriend over the cellphone, the car keys now shoved in his pocket after locking its doors. "You almost ready?"

"Almost, except my hair is being unco-operative right now," Rory complained, the slight echoing effect telling him that she had Marty on speakerphone. "Stupid curling iron."

"It's a casual celebration, Rory," he chuckled while entering the apartment building, using the spare keys that once belonged to Rory's former roommate to do so. "It's going to be pretty low-key, semi-formal at best. It'll most likely just be Rob, his family, a few co-workers and their dates and/or family. Nothing to get really worked up about."

"But this is the first time I'll be at one of these things as your girlfriend, so in my mind it's a huge deal, Marty," she countered. "And I want to make a good impression."

"Well, Rob and Kelsey love you, so I can't see why anybody else wouldn't," he reasoned, climbing the stairs at a leisurely pace.

"Your boss and his wife are fine, it's their daughter who seems to have it out for me," grumbled the journalist. "Little sociopath."

"Riese isn't a sociopath," he chided. "And she doesn't have it out for you. You're imagining things."

"I know, I'm sorry," apologized Rory with a resigned sigh. "The girl just makes me uncomfortable for some reason. Probably has to do with the obvious crush she has on you."

"And now you're being ridiculous," Marty laughed. "Anyway, I should hang up since I'm coming up to your floor."

"Okay, let yourself in. I'll probably be another minute or two."

"Will do," he agreed, once again using the key Rory had given him. The door clicked shut behind Marty as he made his way into the apartment.

"I won't be much longer," Rory called out from down the hall.

"Take your time. We still have forty-five minutes," he answered back. Marty casually made it over towards the couch to sit down, fully prepared to watch some television while waiting for Rory to finish getting ready. He had just turned the channel to ESPN when his girlfriend entered the living room. "All set?"

"I don't know. You tell me," she said.

"Hmm?" Marty stood up and turned to look at her, only to go wide eyed at the sight of Rory standing in the hallway. He blinked for another moment before giving her the once over again from her feet to her face. Golden strapped heels adorned her feet, which color matched that of the roses that decorated the not quite knee length crimson cocktail dress Rory wore. Its v-shaped neckline captured his gaze for a moment that was dangerously close to too long before he continued upwards until their eyes finally met. "Wow."

"Too much?" Rory inquired, her expression unsure.

"You look beautiful," he managed to say, still a bit dumbfounded by her appearance.

"But is it too much?" she pressed.

"Perfect. You look perfect," Marty assured her, finally managing to rein himself. He glanced down at his own clothes, then back over at her. "Me, on other hand..."

"Oh, please, you look great," Rory assured him in return. She stepped forward to stand in front of him, her fingers deftly buttoning up Marty's shirt. "But if you want, I still have one of your ties from the last time you stayed over."

He frown down at her in consideration. "You think it'll help?"

"Only one way to find out," the reporter grinned, leaving her boyfriend standing alone to retrieve the accessory from her bedroom.

After Rory had returned with the tie in hand, the couple decided that Marty looked better without it and rushed out the door. Despite managing to avoid most of the heavy traffic, they just barely arrived at their destination on time. Marty quickly exitted the car to walk around and open the door for Rory, his hand held out towards her.

"Thanks," she smiled in appreciation, taking the offered hand with the one not grasping the designer clutch that matched her dress. They held hands until reaching the restaurant's entrance, where Rory suddenly came to a halt. "Hold on a sec."

He glanced at her, curious. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I just wanted to tell you that I'm so happy to be with you," she stated, her free hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "I love you." Before Marty could even hope to reply, the girl who had at one time rejected his advances in college kissed him. When they separated Rory grinned up at him, once more taking his hand in hers. "Shall we?"

"Yes, we shall," the architect agreed, unable to keep himself from grinning ear to ear. They continued inside to be greeted by the restaurant's hostess, who led them to a private room where Marty's co-workers, along with their respective dates and families, had already gathered. In total there was almost twenty people there. Immediately on catching sight of the couple, Marty's boss approached them with his wife and daughter following behind.

"Well, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence," a jovial Rob greeted. "And in such lovely company, too!" He smiled widely at Rory. "It's nice to see you again, Miss Gilmore."

"Likewise, Mr. Stevens," she returned, sounding overly formal.

"Please call me Rob," he insisted politely.

"Okay...Rob," Rory smiled, obviously nervous. The reporter shot her boyfriend a sharp look when Marty was forced to stiffle a chuckle.

"And you remember my wife, Kelsey," he re-introduced the two women, who shook hands before Rob turned Rory's attention to his daughter. "And this is my baby girl, Riese."

"We've met, Daddy," Riese sighed. "I told you this a while ago, remember?" The teen turned to Rory. "Sorry, I think Daddy's going senile sometimes."

"Anyhow, now that you ladies are all acquainted," Rob segued without missing a beat. "I must speak with my protege concerning a business matter. Martin, if you'd join me at the bar?"

"Will you be fine if I go talk to Rob for a while?" Marty whispered in Rory's ear, his hand placed gently on the small of her back.

"I think I can manage," she whispered back.

"I'll try not to be long," he promised.

"We'll take good care of your lady friend, Martin," the older of the two remaining Stevens interjected, Rob already having left for the bar. "Now go and make certain my husband doesn't drink too many martinis while Riese and I are entertaining Rory."

"Yes, Martin, shoo!" Riese ordered, leading the reporter to the other side of the room with her mother in tow.

"You simply must tell me where you got your dress, dear," he heard Kelsey say as the three women walked away. "It looks amazing on you."

"Okay then," the architect muttered, taken slightly aback by his sudden dismissal. With a shake of his head, Marty chuckled to himself before turning toward the bar where Rob was awaiting him. He nodded at the bartender. "Rickard's Red, if you have it, please."

The bartender nodded back. "Coming right up, sir."

"So what's up, boss?" Marty asked when they were once again alone.

"How long have we known each other, Martin?" Rob returned.

"Almost four years."

"And in that time, would it be safe to assume that we have a certain amount of mutual trust and respect built up?"

"Whatever it is you're trying to say, Rob, just say it," Marty requested, not used to his boss being so evasive.

"Got a call from the main offices in New York this afternoon," a resigned Rob informed. "And it looks like your work on the Hamilton Project impressed them."

"Really? Wait," he frowned, confused by the older man's behavior. "How impressed are we talking about here?"

"We're talking big promotion, big pay raise," his boss explained.

The younger man raised an eyebrow. "What's the catch?"

"That's what I like about you, Martin," Rob chuckled. "Always quick on the uptake."

"What's the catch, Rob?" Marty repeated.

"They need new head architects in the Hartford and Raleigh offices," he answered. "And they want to give one of those positions to you."

"Wow, that's big," a shocked Marty muttered, taking a large swig from his beer.

"The office in Raleigh is a new outfit," continued Rob. "In fact, it's so new that the actual offices won't even be finished until sometime in June." He shrugged. "On the other hand, the Hartford office is one of the older and more established branches of the company. Either way though, they want you to run one of them."

"Is there any way I can just take the huge raise in pay and stay in Chicago like last time?" Marty sighed, referring to the Dallas offer he'd received several months ago.

"I'm afraid not," the older architect apologized. "Would you like my advice, kid?"

He nodded. Rob was his mentor after all. "Sure."

"I suggest you take one of these offers," he continued. "You're a brilliant architect, Marty. One of the best I've had the pleasure to work with. And while I'd hate to see you leave, I think a change of scenery could be exactly what you need right now."

"Can I get back to you on this?" Marty begged off, feeling a little overwhelmed.

"Of course," Ron nodded in understanding. "Just don't take too long on getting back to me on this, okay? It's rather time sensitive."

The younger man frowned. "How time sensitive?"

"I'll need your answer sometime in the next three to four weeks."

"That's some kind of pressure," he grimaced.

"Sorry that I had to drop this on you here, when we're supposed to be celebrating our latest successes," apologized Rob once more, his hand placed on Marty's shoulder. "But I figured that you'd want as much time to mull things over as possible."

"Thanks, I appreciate that, Rob," Marty nodded, standing up from his stool. "I'm going to find Rory and take our seats now. Knowing her, she's probably starving already."

"I should probably go grab my girls, too," his mentor sighed. "How two such skinny women can scarf down so much food is beyond me!"

"I know exactly what you mean," he chuckled, thinking about Rory's odd ability to eat far more than a girl her size should be able to. A now distracted Marty rejoined his girlfriend where she was still speaking with Kelsey and Riese, then wordlessly led her to their seats. Marty only half-listened to the other people talking at the table with them, too pre-occupied with the conversation he'd just had with Rob.

"Is eveything alright, Marty?" Rory asked, effectively garnering his attention.

"Yeah, everything's great," he half-lied.

The reporter gave him that look, the one that told Marty she was not at all convinced. "Marty."

"I'll tell you after the party," he promised, not wanting to worry her. Or worse, cause an argument. "Okay?"

"I'll hold you to that," the reporter nodded, relenting for the time being. She reached over to grasp his hand, a playful little smile on her lips. "Until then, try to have a good time. A lot of this celebrating tonight is because of your hard work. At least according to everyone I've talked to here."

He affectionately, appreciatively squeezed her hand. "Thanks, Rory."

"Anytime," Rory smiled.

"No, really," he smiled back. "Thank you."

Before Rory could say anything in response, Rob clinked a spoon softly against his glass to grab everybody's attention. While his mentor and friend thanked the assembled people for coming, Marty stole a glance at his girlfriend and suddenly felt anxious at their coming conversation. He honestly had no idea how Rory was going to react to the news of his possible transfer.


	45. The Planner

45 - The Planner

It was a quiet and long ride back from the party, the silence almost palable to an increasingly annoyed Rory as the street lights streaked by her vision. She still didn't know what to do about Marty. He'd been almost back to his old self again in the last few days since his lastest projected had ended, their relationship better now that he was less distracted. Then Rob had to go and pull Marty aside and whatever he said put Marty back on edge. To say that Rory was frustrated would be a massive understatement.

 _Keep your cool, Gilmore,_ Rory reminded herself. _Keep your cool and remember what Mom said about pushing too hard. Don't make any ultimatums. Be like a cucumb-_

"We're there."

She looked over at her boyfriend, slightly startled to discover that they were parked outside her apartment building. "What?"

"We're there," repeated Marty, a look of concern on his features. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she lied.

"No, you're not."

"No, I'm not," Rory admitted with a resigned sigh. "But then again, neither are you. Right?"

"Should've known you'd notice," he said, releasing a sigh of his own. He leaned back in his seat, hands tightening the steering wheel for a brief moment before loosening his grip. "I have news. Whether or not it's good news is up for debate."

The reporter felt her stomach tighten in dread but remained silent so Marty could gather his thoughts and continue. It was almost a full twenty seconds before he finally spoke again, his eyes straight ahead.

"I got offered a promotion at work."

"I don't quite understand," Rory frowned, perplexed. "How can a promotion not be good news?"

"When the offer requires me to move to another city, that's how," he explained slowly, like it was difficult to get the words out.

"Oh," she blinked in surprise.

"It's a good offer," her boyfriend continued. "More responsibilty, higher pay..."

Rory laid a hand on his thigh. "But you'll have to move."

"That's if I even take the promotion, Rory," Marty said, finally meeting her gaze.

"And why wouldn't you take it, Marty?" she implored, blue eyes meet brown.

"But what about us?" he countered in earnest.

"We'll do the long distance thing for a while."

"Then what?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Come on, Ror-"

"How long do you have until Rob needs an answer?" Rory interupted.

"End of the month," he answered.

"Wow, that's not a lot of time to get things in order," she noted aloud, already formulating a plan to deal with this latest obstacle.

"I recognize that look," stated Marty. "You're making up lists in your head right now, aren't you?"

"Settle on the best plan, exploit the dynamic within, develop it without, follow the advantage, and master opportunity," the reporter explained, her right index finger held upward. "Thus victory will surely be yours."

He stared at her. "That sounded a lot like Sun-tzu."

"I may have paraphrased a bit, but you get the general idea," she grinned.

"You are taking this way better than I thought you would," her boyfriend noted.

Rory reached over to grasp his hand, bringing it to her lips. "I am not going to let a little thing like distance break us up, Marty. Not if I can help it." She kissed his fingertips. "Beside, if there's one thing I excel at, it's planning."

"I guess Paris picked the right girl as her maid-of-honor then," he joked.

"Oh, that reminds me!" the reporter exclaimed, his hand still in her grasp. "Remember to get the weekend after next off for the wedding. The maid-of-honor can't show up without a date, now can she?"

"I'll do it Monday," Marty promised.

"Be sure that you do, Mister Harrison," Rory grinned, feeling like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Sure, there was still much to do in order to solve this problem, but at least now Rory had a goal to strive towards instead of floundering aimlessly in the dark like she'd been doing for the last several weeks. "Now that all that's more or less out of the way, how about you walk me to my door?"

"It would be my genuine pleasure, Miss Gilmore," he smiled back.

Moments later, when the couple had ascended the stairs, Rory felt her cellphone vibrate from inside her clutch, which brought them to a halt just half a dozen feet from her apartment. Before the journalist could retrieve it though, whoever it was calling Rory had apparently given up after only two rings.

"That's the third time this week that number's called me," she muttered, her light blue cellphone now out so the reporter could look at its caller display. "I wonder who it could be."

"Have you tried calling them back?" Marty asked, concerned.

Rory nodded. "Yeah, but whoever it is ignores me."

"Well, if that's the case, just block the number," her boyfriend suggested.

"I'll do it later," she shrugged, her cellphone once again tucked into her clutch. "Or maybe next time I'll catch whoever they are and actually talk to them." She turned to Marty and placed her arms up onto his shoulders. He followed her lead by slipping his arms around her waist, then pulled Rory in for a deep kiss. When they separated an undeterminable amount of time later, Rory smiled up at him lazily. "Stay?"

He grinned at her as his girlfriend began unlocking her apartment door. "Is this another of your devious plans?"

"Whatever are you talking about?" Rory grinned back while once more grasping his hand in order to lead Marty inside, the heavy door clicking shut behind them.

* * *

 **Reviews help motivate me. Thanks for reading.**


	46. Wedding Gifts & Parting Shots

46 - Wedding Gifts & Parting Shots

"So what time is your flight tomorrow again?" Marty inquired while browsing the items on display in front of him, once again going over their plans for the next few days. The architect already knew what time the plane took off, he was just trying to suppress his ever growing boredom. Shopping for gifts wasn't exactly his favorite activity.

"You know exactly when my flight is, Marty," Rory said with knowing smile. "Now help me find a gift for Paris and Doyle. I have no idea what they'd like."

"And you think I'd know better than you?" he snorted in amusement.

"I had naive hopes," she quipped.

"We could always just get them a toaster," Marty suggested. "Who doesn't need a toaster? Hell, I could probably use a new toaster myself. I wonder what aisle those are in?"

His girlfriend glanced up at him, a delicate eyebrow quirked. "You're not going to be much help, are you?"

"How about I swing by the food court and grab us some coffee?" he offered.

"Alright, go on," she chuckled, waving him off. "I'll handle the gift."

"I'll be back before you know it," he promised, kissing Rory on the cheek before making his egress from the boutique. His destination was only a short trek from where he'd left Rory to her shopping, the Starbucks sign immediately catching his attention. Marty patiently waited his turn in line, then waited again after making his order. The barista had just finished handing Marty his order when he felt a tap on his shoulder. With both cups in hand, Marty turned to face whoever it was that was trying to get his attention. He frowned down at the young red-haired woman standing in front of him, wondering what she could possibly want. "Um, can I help you?"

"You don't recognize me, do you?" she asked back.

"You do look vaguely familiar." he admitted, now that he'd gotten a better look at her. For the life of him though, Marty just couldn't place the girl's name. "I'm sorry. How do I know you again?"

"Well, I guess I shouldn't be too surprised that you don't remember me, seeing as I only worked at the Thompson Group for a few weeks," the red-head stated with a resigned sigh. "And during that entire time, Mr. Stevens never did get my name right."

"You have to admit that Clara and Clarise are pretty similiar names," Marty chuckled, recalling her name at the mention of Rob. "It is Clara, right?"

"Ding-ding, get this boy a cupie doll," she quipped.

"So what brings you back to Chicago, Clara?" he inquired. "Last I heard, Rob said something about you quitting so you could head back to school out east."

"Yup, I'm at the University of Pennysvania," she confirmed. "I'm just in town to visit my grandmother for a few days before heading back. What about you? Heard you were about to get married. How'd that go?"

"Yeah, that didn't quite go the way I wanted it to," Marty sighed. "In fact, it didn't happen at all."

"Sorry, I didn't know," Clara winced.

"It's fine," he shrugged, surprised at how true that statement was. "But I do need to get back to my girlfriend before her coffee gets too cold."

"Girlfriend? Wow, right back on that horse, huh? Aren't you the resiliant one," she complimented, the former secretary falling in step with him. "Very admirable."

"Thanks, I guess," he chuckled.

"Speaking of significant others, I was on my way to meet mine when I saw you," Clara informed him. "I should probably text him soon. I bet he's still all tense from having to spend the entire morning with my grandma." She laughed. "I bet she spent the entire time grilling him on his intentions."

"Where were you supposed to meet him?"

"Macy's. And yours?"

"Some little shop just before that," answered Marty, motioning towards said boutique with cup in hand. "She's buying her best friend a gift for her wedding."

"Well, it was nice seeing you again, Mister Harrison," she smiled.

"It was nice to see you, too, Clara," he smiled back. "And call me Marty."

"Will do," Clara promised before continuing onwards.

After laughing soflty under his breath, Marty re-entered the boutique he'd left Rory in. When Marty found her not far from where he'd last seen her, he stepped up next to Rory and handed her one of the cups in his grasp.

"Thanks," she said, the cup brought up to her lips. "Mmm."

"My pleasure," he replied, then motioned at the display Rory was standing in front of. "So, how goes it?"

"I'm starting to think you were onto something with the toaster suggestion," she sighed, taking another small sip from her coffee. "This is really great."

"Want me to grab the toaster so we can get out of here?" Marty asked, not wanting to spend any more of his last day with Rory in the mall.

"Yeah, I'll just save the receipt in case she wants to exchange it," Rory nodded, both hands wrapped around her coffee. "This is really good! What kind did you order?"

"I honestly don't remember," he shrugged, the nearest toaster on the shelf now tucked under his arm. "I told the barista to surprise me."

"Well, color me surprised because whatever this is almost rivals Luke's," she sighed. "I can't wait to see everybody. It's been so long."

"I'm rather interested to see if Paris has mellowed out at all," Marty joked, which earned him a hip bump from Rory. "Careful, or we may end up giving Paris and Doyle a broken toaster."

His girlfriend laughed. "Let's just pay for the damn thing and get back to your place. We have a movie to watch, remember?"

"Don't have to tell me twice," he agreed, the couple now making a beeline for cashier. While Rory asked the cashier to wrap the gift for her, Marty wandered out of the shop in order to dispose of his now empty coffee cup.

"Hey, stranger," Clara greeted from behind him, startling Marty slightly at her sudden reappearance. "Remember me?"

He turned around to face the hyperactive former assistant, his eyebrows raised in surprise at the oddly familiar person now accompanying her. He was shorter than Marty by around three inches or so, though the newcomer would probably be taller if he hadn't been slouching. Dark brown hair that bordered on unkempt topped his head with equally dark brown eyes cooly regarding Marty with faint recognition as well. Both men seemed to be silently asking one another if they'd met before.

"You two want a room or something?" Clara teased.

"Fancy meeting you here," who Marty assumed was Clara's boyfriend greeted, ignoring the short red-head's jibe. "How's life been treating you?"

"Truthfully, it's been a bit crazed," Marty returned, still at a loss on who the guy was but deciding to go along with the conversation anyway. "And you?"

"Well..." he began.

"Okay, how do you two know each other?" Clara interupted, her expression a mix of confusion and amusement. "Marty? J-"

"Jess? Is that you?" Rory cried in surprise, unintentionally cutting off the perplexed red-head who'd been speaking. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, if it isn't Rory Gilmore," the shorter of the two woman sniped, her mood quickly shifting from jovial to hostile in an instant. "The Teflon Princess herself."

"Oh, I'm sorry," a stunned Rory turned towards her counterpart. "Do I kno- Clara?"

 _This is the second time something like this has happened,_ Marty groaned, recalling the time he and Rory discovered they both knew Tristan Dugray. He'd find it hilarious on how their lives kept randomly intersecting if his girlfriend wasn't on the receiving end of an icy stare from Rob's former assistant at the moment.

"Hi, Rory, it's so nice to see you again," Clara greeted in a saccharine tone. "How you been doing? Break up any marriages lately?"

"Oh, for God's sake, Clara," Jess chided as though he'd been expecting something like this to happen. "Would you let it go?"

"It's alright, Jess," an obviously upset Rory stated. "She's entitled to her opinion."

"Actually, it's more than an opinion, Rory," the shorter girl continued. "It's fact. If you hadn't-"

"Okay, that's it! I'm out," a visibly exasperated Jess declared, hands raised as he turned around and began walking away from the group.

"No, Jess, don't...damn it!" Clara cried. She quickly turned back to Rory. "We are so not finished with this subject, Rory." As if only now remembering that Marty was standing there, Clara looked him directly in the eye. "You're too good for her."

And with that said Clara Forester followed in the direction that her boyfriend had gone, leaving a completely gobsmacked Rory and Marty in her wake.

"That was intense," Marty stated after a lengthy silence between the couple.

"I'm not feeling that great anymore," a still upset Rory almost whimpered. "Can we go home now?"

"Yeah, let me carry that," he answered, taking the gift from Rory then leading her towards the parking garage.

During the entire ride back to the townhouse Marty was tempted to ask what Clara meant by her 'break up any marriages lately' question, but ultimately decided against it. The decision of whether or not to enlighten him on the subject was completely up to Rory. It wouldn't be until several hours later when they were curled up on the couch watching television that Rory finally chose to do so.

"I suppose you're wondering what Clara was talking about back there," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "That whole 'break up any marriages' crack she made had to have had you intrigued, right?"

"I'll completely understand if you don't want to tell me what happened," he replied, even if his curiosity was killing him right then. "You seem pretty upset."

"I am upset," she sniffled. "But only because that little scene reminded me of how crappy of a person I used to be." Marty felt Rory take a deep breath before continuing. "Believe or not, Clara used to like me. Back when I used to her date her brother Dean..."

Marty listened intently to Rory as she told him about her relationship with Clara's brother, how the then college freshman had come between Dean and his wife, Lindsey. And while Marty was shocked at hearing that Rory was (at the very least) halfway responsible for the failure of her ex-boyfriend's marriage, he could hear the remorse in his girlfriend's voice on her past actions.

"You're not that person anymore, Rory," he reassured the woman in his embrace.

Rory sighed loudly. "I know, it's just..."

"Leave it in the past, where it belongs," Marty interjected softly in her ear.

"You know what? You're absolutely right," she agreed. "This is our last night together for almost an entire week, so I'm not going let my ex's younger sister ruin tonight any further." She twisted in his embrace so they were somewhat facing each other. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For listening."

"It's what I'm here for," he smiled.

"No, I mean it," she continued, completely sincere. "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure," Marty stated, laying a soft, almost chaste kiss on her lips. When they seperated Rory twisted back into her previous position and leaned back into him, her head resting comfortably against his chest. The couple resumed watching their TV show for another hour until Rory suggested that they go to bed since her flight was early and her bags were still at her apartment.

"It's going to be a long week," Marty stated later on when they were in bed.

"I know but I've already shirked my Maid of Honor duties enough as it is," Rory whispered back, her head on his chest. "Paris will kill me if I'm not there to help with the final preparations."

"And that would suck," he stated, suddenly exhausted.

"Yes, it would," Rory agreed.

"I'm going to miss you," Marty mumbled before sleep overtook him.

The next moring arrived to have Marty discover himself alone in bed and the townhouse eerily quiet, save for the alarm clock he'd just shut off. Assuming that Rory was already downstairs making breakfast, the still groggy Marty stumbled into the washroom for a quick shower before he had to drive his girlfriend to first her apartment for her luggage then off to the airport. When he was finished that and had hastily gotten dressed, Marty went downstairs towards the kitchen with the expectation of sharing breakfast with his girlfriend of the last two months. Instead of breakfast though Marty discovered said girlfriend seated at the table, where several letters and notes were situated haphazardly in front of her.

Marty frowned at the mess. "Rory?" At the sound of his voice, Rory glanced up at him with tears in her azure eyes. "What's going on here?"

His girlfriend held up one of the letters. "Maybe I should be asking you that, Marty."

He was just about to ask Rory what she meant by that until, out of the corner of his eye, Marty caught sight of an open drawer. And not just any drawer, but THE drawer.

"Oh, crap," he muttered, suspecting there was an argument coming. _How the hell could I have forgotten about that stupid drawer!?_

* * *

 **Okay, show of hands. Who honestly forgot about the drawer? Yup, that's what I thought.**

 **Anyhow, thanks again for reading.**

 **PS- I'm thinking of doing a Cless story that'll tie into this one. Should I?**


	47. A Drawer Full of Doubts

47 - A Drawer Full of Doubts

 _I probably could've handled that better,_ thought an emotionally exhausted Rory Gilmore, her impassive observation of the crew going over their final preparations doing nothing to distract the journalist from the memories of three hours earlier.

The reporter had awoken much earlier than her boyfriend had with the intention of making coffee the way she preferred it, which was stronger than Marty usually brewed it, and Rory had successfully done so when she got the inexplicible and sudden inspiration to attempt cooking breakfast in bed for the still slumbering man upstairs. The man who'd captured her heart.

A lone tear trickled down her cheek before Rory silently swept it aside with the back of her hand, her gaze still glued to the now departing ground crew outside the plane. The captain announced that they'd be on their way shortly, which relieved Rory to no end. The sooner she arrived in Hartford, the sooner she could help in planning her best friend friend's wedding and distract herself from this morning's events.

Until then though those memories continued to dominate her mind, their assault on the downtrodden journalist unrelenting and merciless. It was a miracle in itself that Rory was not a blubbering mess right now.

"I so could've handled that better," she whispered under her breath, blue eyes now closed as the airplane began its ascent. _This would not be happening if I had only checked the drawer closer to the coffee machine for the spatula instead on the one near the fridge!_

After the plane levelled out a few minutes later, Rory felt herself slowly succumbing to her exhaustion. As slumber finally washed over her, those events which had been dominating her conciousness took form in her dreams.

Several letters lay on the table in front of Rory, many of them already read then placed aside in favor of the next. Rory knew what she was doing was wrong, a blatant invasion of privacy that would probably endanger her relationship with Marty, but she couldn't help herself. Like the cat in the proverb, curiosity had gotten the better of her. It was the curse of her profession, and oh, how Rory was paying for it now.

The journalist didn't know how long she'd been sitting there reading these sickening sweet reminders of the woman who came before her, but it must have been a while because when Marty finally arrived in the kitchen, he was freshly showered and ready to drive her home for her luggage.

"Rory? What's going on here?"

"Maybe I should be asking you that, Marty," she accused, the letter in her hand held up like it was damning evidence in a trial. The reporter briefly wondered at his apparent confusion, then furrowed her brow in anger at his next words.

"Oh, crap," he muttered.

"What the hell is all this, Marty?" Rory demanded, now having risen out of her chair to stand in front of her boyfriend. She held the letter still in her grasp out to him. "Well?"

"They're letters, notes that Andy and I wrote each other," Marty answered honestly, taking the offered letter from her.

"Oh, I can see that, Captain Obvious," she rolled her eyes. "But why do you still have them?"

"And what am I supposed to do with them, Rory? Burn them?" he countered. "Hell, I didn't even know if they were still in there!"

"How do you not know something like that, Marty?"

"Because I had hoped Andy took them with her, okay?"

"And it never even occured to you to check?"

"I was afraid to check, alright? Is that what you want to hear, Rory?" Marty admitted. "I was afraid to check that damned drawer after she came in here and cleared out all her crap!" He brought a hand up to his face in order to rub his jaw before dropping said hand down again, his expression visibly more calm. "What does this even matter anyway?"

"It matters because, once again, it looks like I'm your second choice!" Rory shouted, completely frustrated by his cluelessness. "And I refuse to be your consolation prize, Marty Harrison!"

"Goddamn it, Rory," he swore. "How many times do I have to jump through this hoop until you realize that I chose you. Not Andy. You!"

"But have you really chosen me, Marty? Have you?" Rory cried, gesturing towards the still open drawer. "Because that drawer, that fucking drawer full of these letters, these notes to another woman is telling me otherwise! It tells me you're still clinging to the past, still clinging to Andy!"

He shook his head in denial. "I am not clinging to the past, Rory. I just never got around to cleaning it out!"

"I want to believe that," she rasped. "I really, really do, but what am I supposed to think when the man I love practically has a shrine to the woman who came before me? The same woman who left him standing at the altar?" Rory snatched the nearest letter from the table and crumpled it up before tossing the offending paper at him, her voice rising to an almost shrill volume. "What the hell am I supposed to think? Can you answer that, Marty? Can you?"

"You're being irrational," her boyfriend stated with obviously forced calm.

"You're damn right I am," she snapped, fed up. "And I think I have every right to be since I'm the one who's been lied to for the last two months!"

"I have never lied to you the entire time we've been together," retorted Marty, once again losing his temper. "In fact, I've bent over backwards for you! I went out of my way to make sure you didn't feel like the rebound! What the hell, Rory?"

"You may not have outright lied, but you hid things from me," the reporter admitted, desperately trying to rein in her emotions. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before continuing, their gazes meeting, her azure blue on his hazel-green. "You retreated into your shell and you shut me out. What do you think that tells me?"

"Oh, for God's sake," he muttered under his breath, turning away to lean against the breakfast nook. The argument was going in circles and they both knew it. Yet neither knew what to do or say next without exacerbating the situation. In the end though they chose to do and say nothing for what seemed like an eternity. The oppressive silence lasted for several moments until Rory finally decided to break it.

"My plane leaves in less than two and a half hours," she reminded him in a flat tone. "I need to head home and grab my luggage."

"Did you need a ride?" Marty asked stiffly, his back still to her.

"I don't think that's a very good idea right now," Rory answered honestly. "I'll take a cab there, then to the airport later."

"At least let me drive you home, Rory," he insisted, turning to face her. She was tempted to protest but decided against it.

"Fine," she relented with a resigned sigh.

Following a short but tense ride from Marty's place to her apartment building, the couple found themselves at another impasse. One that neither of them wanted to voice. This time it was Marty who broke the silence.

"Are you sure you don't want a ride to the airport later?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," she nodded, then added. "I think this time apart might be exactly what we need."

"Ror-" he began.

"And during this time apart, I want you to get in touch with Andy," the journalist interrupted, uncertain that she'd have the strength to continue if she stopped right then. "Either get some closure." She turned to face him, an earnest expression on her face. "Or get back with her." Rory reached over to lay a hand on his cheek. "Okay?"

"Rory, I lov-" Marty began, only to be cut off again. This time by a kiss.

"Hold that thought," she whispered when they separated. "Save it until later, when I know for sure you mean it."

He whispered. "I do mean it."

"I know that you think you do," she rasped back. "But I want no doubts and that can't happen until you cleared things up with Andy," Rory pulled him closer to kiss him again. "I know this is completely unfair of me to ask but do this for me? Please?"

A clearly disappointed Marty closed his eyes and let out a trembling breath, then nodded his relunctant acceptance.

"Thank you," the broken hearted journalist whispered before exitting the vehicle without a backwards glance.

"Miss? We've arrived in Hartford," a young woman's voice informed from out of nowhere, startling the journalist awake with jolt.

A still groggy Rory glanced back and forth at the nearly empty plane in confusion. "What?"

"We've arrived in Hartford," the flight attendant repeated with concern. "Are you okay, miss?"

An uncomprehending Rory stared at the other woman for a long moment before suddenly bursting into tears, quickly clutching onto the flight attendant like a lifeline.

"Shh, it's going to be okay, miss," the flight attendant whispered, her voice full of patience and compassion. "Whatever it is, it'll to be okay."

 _No, it won't,_ despaired a sobbing Rory, the implications of what she may have given up completely decimating what little emotional control she had left. _I've lost him, haven't I?_


	48. Return of the Runaway Bride

48 - Return of the Runaway Bride

It had been a stressful week for Marty. And not just concerning the whole Rory blowout from Sunday morning either. Rob had spent the majority of the week not-so-subtly reminding his protege of the deadline on head office's offer, his boss stating that he needed an answer by next Wednesday or said offer may be rescinded. Not wanting to disappoint his mentor and friend Marty promised that he'd have a definite answer once he got back from Hartford, which seemed to placate Rob for the time being. Nevermind the fact that Marty was still uncertain if he'd even be going to the damn wedding anymore since Rory set down her ultimatum before leaving. And nevermind the fact Marty had almost no luck in getting a hold of Andy over the last few days, his former fiance somehow always being unavailable whenever Marty called the number Lexie had given him several weeks ago.

 _Should've just chucked that number in the trash when I first had the chance,_ he scowled, knuckles white on the steering wheel. _Should've checked that damned drawer and thrown that crap out as well. Stupid._

"What the hell was she doing digging through my kitchen drawers any way?" he wondered aloud, this not being the first time that question had come to mind. Marty had gone back and forth on being angry with himself and in turn Rory. She had violated his personal space. Sure, it was (most likely) by accident, but still...

 _You're going to drive yourself crazy if you keep going in circles like this, man,_ he chided himself, his car now pulled up the curb outside the townhouse. "Gotta get my shit together," the troubled architect muttered under his breath. When he finally entered his home, Marty decided to try getting a hold of Andy again before heading upstairs to pack his bags. In case he did decide to go to the wedding after all.

"Hello, Marianne," he greeted into the receiver a moment later, the cordless pressed against his ear. "It's me, Martin, again."

"Ah know full well who this is," the unpleasant woman almost sneered, not bothering to hide her distain for him. Marianne never did approve of him. She considered Marty too common, too much of a Yank for someone belonging to one of the oldest and prestigious families in Charlotte, North Carolina. "And Ah would appreciate it if you'd stop phoning here. Good day, Martin."

"A pleasure as always, Marianne," he deadpanned, their conversation ended almost as quickly as it had begun. "I don't think that woman will ever stop hating me."

 _Now what am I supposed to do?_ Marty wondered while climbing the stairs to his bedroom, completely at a loss of what to do next. He could try getting a hold of Lexie again but Marty wasn't too fond of that idea. The former band manager had proven to be even more difficult to get in contact with than Andy. He was even less fond of attempting to speak with Marianne again. And the former members of the Ragged Dolls refused to take his calls, all three of them blaming him for the breakup of their band. Marty was quickly running out of contacts, time, and patience.

 _What am I supposed to tell Rory the next time I see her?_ Marty mused with a scowl, feeling beyond frustrated with the entire situation. _And how am I supposed to get closure with Andy when I can't even find her?_

Not even a second after finishing that thought and pushing open the bedroom door did his gaze fall upon an all too familiar figure seated on the mattress. Emerald eyes met hazel, long blonde tresses framing the flawless porcelain skin of her face. The face of the woman who Marty had intended to spend the rest of his life with only a few short months ago.

"Hi," she greeted with an uncertain smile. The same smile that the blonde had given him when they first met in that laundry room across town. The same smile that Marty had fallen in love with in what seemed like an entirely different life time now. Where that smile had once made his heart race though, it only served to remind Marty on how badly she had hurt him.

"Hi?" Marty cried in disbelief. "I haven't seen or heard from you since the day before our wedding was supposed to happen, three months of absolutely no communication and that's the best you can do? Really, Andy? Really?"

"I can see you're still a little pissed about that," she sighed, a delicate hand sweeping back her unruly hair as it tried to get in her eyes. "Can't say I don't blame yah either. I'd be too if I were in your shoes."

"How generous of you for understanding," he said, rolling his eyes. "What are you doing here? And how did you even get inside?"

"Spare key under the mat," Andy reminded him, standing up from the bed. "As to why I'm here? You called me, remember? I figured it'd be best if we talked in person. Sorry it took me so long to get here. My aunt was being a bitch and tried to hide the fact you called. If she hadn't forgotten to clear the memory on the call display two days ago, I wouldn't be here right now."

"Damn, I should've known she'd do something like that," he sighed, not feeling particular bright for underestimating Marianne's disapproval of him.

"Yeah, you probably should've," she grinned a little, taking a cautious step towards Marty. "You look good."

He raised a hand up. "Don't."

"I missed you," the blonde stated, ignoring his warning.

"Cut it out," he growled.

Andy was now standing in front of him, her hand on his chest. "Did you miss me?"

"I'd be lying if I said no," admitted the architect. He grasped her wrist lightly and gently removed her hand from where the blonde had lain it on his chest. "But after the first month or so, I got over it."

"No doubt, thanks to Rory and those giant moon eyes of hers," the blonde scoffed, her jealousy obvious. "My god, she didn't waste any time on scooping you up, did she?"

"Leave Rory out of this," Marty commanded.

"Can't say I'm all that surprised though," Andy stated, once again ignoring his warning. "I mean, you did mention liking her back in Yale. Not to mention all those longing looks she's been sending your way since comin' to Chicago."

"You're delusional," he scoffed, though it sounded weak to his ears.

"Where is the little lady any way? You guys get in a tiff?"

"I don't have time for this," Marty said, not liking how dead on her assumption was. "I have packing to do."

"Pack when I'm gone," the musician said, stepping between him and his dresser. "You called me, remember? Now talk."

"I seriously don't have the time, Andrea," he insisted.

"Make the time, Martin," she ordered. "I did not cross half the fuckin' country just to be dismissed like a damn servant! Now talk!"

"You can't tell me what to do anymore," he snapped. "You gave up that right when you left me standing at the damn altar!"

"Do you think I don't know that?" Andy cried, her viridian eyes pooling with tears. "Do you think I don't regret that every day? Do you?"

"Then why did you do it, Ands? Why?"

"Because I got scared, okay?" she sobbed. "I was standing there, looking at mahself in that gorgeous dress and then it hit me! I was getting married! And that's forever! And I started freaking out!" Andy closed her eyes, hands raised up to her mouth as she began to breath in ragged bursts like she was about to hyperventilate. When the blonde finally composed herself enough though, she dropped her hands to her side again. "I know I fucked up. Fucked up big time, but..."

"Please don't say what I think you're about to say," he begged.

"But it's not too late for us," she finished, grasping his hand. "We can make this work again, Martin! Please, just give us another chance!"

"You have a lot of gall to ask that of me," Marty rasped, disengaging himself from his former fiance. "Especially when you know that I'm seeing Rory now."

"You do realize she's just going to end up breaking your heart," Andy stated.

"Kind of like how you did?"

The musician flinched like she'd been slapped. "Yup. I walked right into that one."

"Yeah, you really did," he agreed without humor. It was an undetermined amount of time later that Marty spoke again, the pair of them having just stood there in silence in the meanwhile. "Let's say I do this. How do I know if I can still trust you? How do I know you won't run away again?"

Andy slowly closed the distance between them, then reached up to caress his face. "Because I'm ready now, I'm not afraid of the future anymore. I no longer feel like the walls are closing in 'round me."

"That's all well and good for you," he whispered, his hands gently grasping her wrists. "But you're putting me in a tight spot by doing this."

"I know I am, but I have to make mah case or risk losing the best guy I've ever been with," she said. The tall blonde let out a soft sigh before leaning in for a delicate kiss, their lips barely touching at all. When she pulled away to stare up at his face in earnest, Andy smiled a watery smile. "Whatever you decide to do though, make sure you follow your heart. Just know that wherever it leads, I'll always love you." She turned to leave.

"What if my heart tells me to get on that plane to Hartford? To Rory?" he asked, causing her to pause mid-step.

"Well, that's just a chance I'm going to have to take, isn't it?" she said. "I'll be at the Ramada for the next few days if you need to find me," the slim blonde informed him. "I'll let myself out." Andy glanced over her shoulder at him. "Goodbye, Marty."

"Goodbye, Andy," he whispered to the now vacant space, the sound of the front door opening and shutting the only indication that Andrea Marie Walker had even been there. He glanced over where his luggage was sitting, then back to the empty doorway. _What the hell am I supposed to do now?_


	49. Always the Bridesmaid

49 - Always the Bridesmaid

 _Five minutes alone, that's all I'm asking for,_ Rory thought with an exasperated sigh, her back pressed up against the door to prevent anybody from following her inside the dressing room. After briefly glancing around to make certain she'd entered the correct room, Rory quickly locked the door then walked over to the ornately crafted antique table and divan sofa that were the center pieces of the room. There she located her bag atop the table and removed her cellphone from it before falling back onto the divan in order to check her messages, hoping against hope that Marty had texted her.

"Nothing," the journalist muttered bitterly at the touchscreen. Not that Rory was very surprised by this news. For the last five and a half days all she could think about was how big of a mistake that ultimatum truly had been. Well, whenever Rory wasn't distracting herself with the wedding preparations that is. Truthfully she was grateful for being so busy since her arrival because it kept Rory from becoming a complete blubbering mess like she'd been on the plane. She glanced at her cellphone again and noticed that if Marty was going to come, he'd more than likely miss the ceremony since it started in less than thirty minutes. For a brief moment Rory was tempted to send an apologetic text to beg Marty to hurry but decided against it, instead just typing the bare necessities.

 _[At the Windsor Club. Hope to see you. -Rory]_

A knock on the door captured her attention, followed by the inquistive voice of one of her two fellow bridesmaids. "Rory? Are you in there?"

"I'll be right out, Louise," she called out, rising from the divan to return her cellphone to her bag.

"Good, 'cause Paris is going nuts wondering where you disappeared to," her former classmate from Chilton answered as the maid of honor unlocked and opened the door.

"Let's go," Rory sighed while sparing one last glance back before following Louise back to Paris' bridal suite, once again shifting into bridal party mode.

Just like Rory had predicted, Marty did miss the ceremony. At least she couldn't find the tall architect in the crowd when the reporter could afford the chance to search for him. In fact, Marty had missed the first half hour of the reception.

Sometime during her fretful search for Marty's lanky visage in the crowd, Rory noticed that her mother had entered the hall accompanied by Luke, April and William.

"Hi, babe," Lorelai greeted when they reached her, each member of her family hugging Rory in turn. "How are you holding up?"

"As well as you'd expect," she answered, having already explained the situation with Marty to her mother on Wednesday. "And before you ask, no, Marty hasn't texted or called yet."

"Don't worry, hun," Lorelai assured. "It'll work itself out."

"I hope you're right," nodded Rory, then knelt down to address her younger brother. "But nevermind that for now." She smiled at William, sweeping back the almost three year old's shaggy hair away from his eyes. "Hey, Billy Boy. How's my favorite little brother?"

"Ay'm yer only lil brother," he lisped.

"Still makes you my favorite," she grinned.

He smiled back. "Mama says there's cake."

"Mama's right," Rory took his hand. "Come on, I'll introduce you to Paris, too. This is her party."

"Can Apwi come?" William asked hopefully.

"Sure thing," the soon-to-be Harvard freshman agreed from next to her father, the three of them making their way to the concession table was located. After introducing Paris to her younger brother and step-sister, Rory excused herself to check her cellphone to see if Marty left any messages.

Unfortunately, the journalist only made it as far as the entrance when she felt somebody grasp her by the wrist. When Rory turned to face whoever it was that grabbed her, she felt her stomach drop in disappointment. She had briefly hoped that it was Marty who'd suddenly showed up but instead Rory came face to face with somebody she hadn't seen for nearly five years.

"Hey, Ace," Logan greeted. "Long time no see."

"Hello, Logan," she returned politely. "Nice to see you again."

"Wow, did it suddenly get cold in here, or is it just me?" he smirked.

"Sorry, it's just I got a lot on my mind right now," she apologized. It wasn't like Rory had come to hate Logan since their last encounter but she was no longer comfortable around him. The memory of his all or nothing proposal soured much of her fondness for the heir of the Huntzberger publishing empire. "If you excuse me fo-"

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention," the emcee interjected, bringing an end to several of the conversation that had been going on. "The bride and groom would appreciate it if you would share in this joyous occasion and bear witness to their first dance."

 _So much for that idea,_ internally griped the maid of honor. She mustered her best smile at the sight of Doyle and Paris dancing slowly to the band playing their rendition of David Gray's This Year's Love, the reporter trying desperately to feel happy for her friend while holding back her own tears.

 _'Turning circles when time comes again,_  
 _It cuts like a knife, oh yeah,_  
 _If you love me got to know for sure,_  
 _Cause it takes something more this time_  
 _Than sweet, sweet lies...'_

"What if he's not coming?" Rory whispered in horror. _I need to check my phone!_

"What was that?" Logan inquired.

"Nothing," she rasped. "Excuse me, I need a moment." Before Logan could reply Rory was out the door and down the hall. The almost distraught bridesmaid had made it halfway to the suite where she'd left her belongings when Logan caught up to her again. He barred the way into the dressing room.

"Rory, what's going on?" he asked, concerned.

She shook her head. "It's nothing."

Logan sighed. "Why are you lying to me?"

"Because it doesn't concern you, Logan," Rory answered, her throat thick with emotion. "I just need to check my messages. Please."

"There you two are," Emily called down from the hall. "What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be supporting your friend right now, Rory?"

"I just want to check my messages," the youngest Gilmore whimpered, feeling like the universe was against her right now.

"Nonsense, Rory. That can wait for later," her grandmother admonished. "Now I expect you and Logan to head back in there. Your best friend only gets married once, you know."

"Yes, grandma," sighed Rory in defeat. "We'll be right in."

"Very good," Emily beamed before turning back to rejoin the celebration.

 _Now that isn't suspicious at all,_ the journalist frowned.

"Let's head back in," Logan agreed, his hand now on Rory's lower back in an almost possessive manner. "I think you need to pay a toast soon."

"Whatever," she muttered, not at all happy by this developement. It was becoming more and more obvious that her grandmother had taken advantage of Paris' wedding in order to meddle with Rory's love life. If she hadn't been so caught up in her own muddled thoughts, Rory might have been able to prevent this from happening in the first place. Now Rory was stuck with the uneviable task of fighting off Logan's advances while simultaneously trying to fight off her despair. When they had almost arrived at the entrance, the blonde publishing heir lightly grasped her by the elbow in order to get Rory to pause in her tracks. _What now?_

"Wait. There's something I need to say before we head in there, Rory," Logan stated, his expression the closest she'd seen it approach earnest. "It's rather important."

Rory let out another sigh of defeat. "Alright, let's get this over with."

"I get why you're being short with me," he continued. "Seeing how I acted last time we saw each other, I don't really blame you either. I was selfish to make you choose between your career or me. It took me the better part of five years to realize that." Logan chuckled in self-deprecation. "In fact, I realize it was the biggest mistake of my life."

The reporter immediately knew where her ex was going with this conversation, but had no idea how to stop it from happening. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion. "Logan, I-"

"But when Emily informed me you'd be here, I knew I had to take this opportunity to ask if you'd like to give us another go," he finished like Rory hadn't even spoken. "You know we're meant to be. You're grandmother knows we're meant to be, too. So what do you say, Ace?"

"I...I don't know what to say, Logan," Rory replied, more than a little surprised by the sincerity in his voice. "Can I get back to you on that?"

"Sure, take your time," he smiled. "I'm here all night."

"I need to grab some air," she excused herself. "Could you grab me a drink while I'm doing that?"

Logan nodded. "Sure. I'll see you inside then."

"Yeah, thanks," the panicked maid of honor nodded back. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be waiting," he promised.

When she had finally escaped and arrived outside, Rory let out a deep breath then turned her teary gaze upward at the darkening sky. "Where the hell are you, Marty?"

* * *

 **Danger, Rory Gilmore, danger!**


	50. Just Another Word For Destiny

50 - Just Another Word For Destiny

It was dusk when Marty finally arrived in front of his destination, the building before him looming darkly against the early evening sky. The street lamps had yet to turn on, which only added to the inky, oppressive gloom. If he believed in portents and such, this would definitely be a bad sign of what was to come.

 _Good thing I don't believe in that sort of crap, or I'd have to write this entire day off,_ he snorted while attempting to find the nerve to actually go inside. Marty glanced at his watch then shook his head before finally forcing himself to exit the vehicle. As he walked along the cobblestone path leading towards the entrance, Marty noticed a few people outside cheerfully conversing while they smoked their cigarettes or, in the case of two older gentlemen, expensive looking cigars. Not recognizing any of these people though, he chose to ignore them in order to continue on his way toward the front doors. Out of habit Marty pulled his cellphone from his pocket, only to roll his eyes at rediscovering that its battery had died a little under three hours ago.

"Stupid," he chided himself, the now useless piece of technology stuffed back into his pocket. The architect finally entered the building after narrowly dodging an inebriated couple who had almost smacked him in the face with the door upon their egress. Following a brief moment on not knowing where to go next, Marty was about to ask the nearest staff member for directions when someone called out his name from across the lobby.

"Marty!"

He only had enough time to turn towards that someone before a lavender blur launched itself into his embrace, nearly knocking the breath from his lungs in the process. Lithe arms tightly wrapped themselves around his shoulders and soft sobs of what he guessed were relief went muffled against Marty's chest.

"Sorry that I'm late," he told the girl in his arms. "My plane got delayed and then my phone chose to die right after your last text."

"Doesn't matter, Marty," she laughed, leaning back to look him in the eye. "You showed up. That's all that matters to me right now. You showed up."

"I'm sorry it took me so long," he apologized again, though this time for an entirely different reason.

"No," the girl shook her head. "I'm the one who should be apologizing to you. I should never have forced this situation. I completely over-reac-"

"Uh, what's going on here?"

 _I know that voice_ , the architect frowned, slowly turning his gaze towards the person who'd interupted their conversation. _Huh, small world._

"Marty? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Crap, I forgot he was here," the girl sighed. She relunctantly slipped out of Marty's embrace to regard the newcomer but maintained a tight grip on his hand.

"What is going on here? Ace?"

"Hey, Logan," Rory greeted non-chalantly. "You remember Marty, don't you?"

Huntzberger frowned, his expression a mix between angry and confused. "Yeah..."

"Well, we've been seeing each other for a couple of months now and we're pretty serious," she explained. Rory turn her head to smile up at her boyfriend. "Right, Marty?"

"Yeah, we are," Marty nodded in agreement.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Logan scoffed, not believing a word they were saying.

"No, it's not a joke, Logan," she sighed again. "I'm with Marty. Now if you'll excuse us, we're going to go dance. Have a good evening." Rory shared another smile with Marty. "Shall we?"

"Yes, we shall," Marty replied, allowing her to lead him away from where a stunned Logan was standing by himself. When the couple entered the ballroom, they headed immediately onto the dance floor to join in with several other couples who were dancing cozily.

"This band's pretty good," Marty remarked as they swayed to the music.

"Yeah, they are," his girlfriend agreed. "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

Marty glanced down at her. "You want to know how it went with Andy, don't you?"

"If you don't want to talk about it, I understand," she said. "I'm just curious."

"It was awkward," he answered. "I mean, she just showed up out of the blue yesterday after I spent the entire week trying to get a hold of her without any luck, then she has the unmitigated gall to beg me for another chance."

"Were you tempted?" Rory inquired. "To give her another chance, I mean."

"I'm not going to lie to you, Rory," stated Marty honestly. "Despite how she tore my heart out and stomped on it, I was tempted to give in. Even though it was only for a little while, the fact of the matter is that I was tempted to give Andy another chance."

"What made you change your mind?" she asked.

"You did, Rory," he answered. "When Andy left me, you helped me get back on my feet. When I thought I was broken, you fixed me."

Rory smiled. "I only did what you'd do for me."

"I know, and that's why I love you," Marty told her. "It's also why I know that this-" he gestured between them. "-is going to work now."

"This-" she copied his gesture. "-IS going to work. And you know why?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because we were meant to be," his dancing partner stated without any hesitation.

"Who would've thought that Rory Gilmore believed in destiny?" he teased.

"No, not destiny," she shook her head. "It's kismet."

"Isn't that just another word for destiny?"

"Shut up and dance with me, Mister Harrison," ordered Rory, playfully rolling her eyes.

"It would be my genuine pleasure, Miss Gilmore," Marty relented, her head now resting on his shoulder as the band seamlessly drifted from one slow song into another.

 _'Tonight I find that I am right back where I was before._  
 _The lullaby she sang has kept me lying awake once more._  
 _She's right, she's right, she's right._  
 _The fire alights.'_

 _'She's like an image of me, not how she looks, how she sees the world, we see the same thing._  
 _She saw me looking around._  
 _She caught me tumbling down to find we need the same thing._  
 _I read the books that she reads._  
 _I want her philosophy to know we're never ending._  
 _She's got an innocent smile._  
 _She'll break your heart for a while but she's so good at mending._  
 _Oh, she's so good at mending...'_

"I like this song," Rory remarked.

"Me, too," Marty agreed.

 _'This time she's going to try._  
 _No turning on her heels again._  
 _Decide, decide, decide if this is what she wants again._  
 _She's mine, she's mine, she's mine._  
 _The fire alights.'_

 _'She's like an image of me, not how she looks, how she sees the world, we see the same thing._  
 _She saw me looking around._  
 _She caught me tumbling down to find we need the same thing._  
 _I read the books that she reads._  
 _I want her philosophy to know we're never ending._  
 _She's got an innocent smile._  
 _She'll break your heart for a while but she's so good at mending.'_

Acting as though they were one, the couple stopped dancing for the moment to gaze into each other's eyes before Marty leaned in at the same instant as Rory. Their lips meet for a long, soft kiss that held the promise of many more to come in the future.

 _'Yeah, she's so good at mending...'_

* * *

 **The end? Not quite.**


	51. Our Little Corner of the World

Epilogue - Our Little Corner of the World

An exhausted Rory groaned at the sound of her alarm clock going off, its blaring screech forcibly yanking away whatever she'd been dreaming about. She raised her head to regard the alarm clock and briefly wondered why on earth it was set for five o'clock in morning before calmly hitting the snooze button. She glanced at the prone form laying on the opposite side of the bed, a tired smile tugging at her lips at the sight of a snoring Marty.

That smile widened when Rory suddenly remembered the reason for setting the alarm for so early on a Saturday morning. She was still somewhat groggy making her way out of the bedroom and down the hall. After arriving at her destination Rory clumsily entered another room and lumbered towards the bed situated near the window, lazily pushing the bed's current occupent aside until there was enough room for both of them.

"Morning, baby girl," she whispered into brown locks. "Guess what day it is?"

The girl whispered back. "Is it Christmas?"

"Nope, try again."

"Hannukah?"

"Nope."

"Is Dad up yet?"

"No, but he'll be up soon," she promised. "Now, keep guessing."

"Is it my birthday?" the girl whispered.

"Yes, it's your birthday, baby girl," confirmed Rory, her arms now wrapped around the girl's slight frame. "And it was on this day, eight years ago, that..."

"Here we go," her daughter sighed, all too familiar with the coming tale.

"...your grandfather Luke rushed me to the emergency room after my water broke during Thanksgiving dinner," she continued like her daughter hadn't even spoken. "And, boy, was that ever the most eventful Thanksgiving my grandparents ever had, let me tell you!"

"You always do."

"Anyway, your father was out of town on business but raced back when your grandmother called him to tell him what was going on."

"Oh, I like that part."

"Of course, you do, sweetie," smiled Rory, the memory of that day still fresh in her mind. "Now, where was I?"

"Grandma Lorelai just called Dad 'cause you ruined Thanksgiving dinner."

Rory chuckled. "Right, thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Well, to make a long story short..."

"Too late," quipped her daughter.

"...ten hours and fifty-six minutes later at five thirteen in the morning," she concluded, once again ignoring the eight year old's attempt to throw her off. "We welcomed the newest addition of our family into the world. And that would be you, Winifred Lorelai Harrison."

"Yay, me," the girl yawned.

"Go back to sleep, birthday girl," she whispered into her daughter's dark brown hair. "We'll come wake you up when it's time to head over to meet your grandparents for brunch."

"Okie dokie," mumbled the eight year old in a tired voice. "Mom?"

"Yeah, sweets?"

"Love you."

"I love you, too. Sweet dreams," Rory added with a kiss to the girl's temple before slipping from under the covers so she could return to her own bed down the hall. Her tired mind barely registered that her husband was no longer in their bed, the sound of rushing water from the open bathroom door indicating where Marty was and what he was doing. While tempted to join her husband in the shower, Rory instead plopped onto her side of the bed with the intent of resting her eyes for only a moment. It was an undeterminable amount of time later that she awoke to the sound of two wonderfully familiar voices in the hallway outside her open bedroom door.

 _So tired,_ she groaned into her pillow, not wanting to get up. Her bed was so comfortable. It would be a crime to get up now. She was vaguely aware that one of the two people who'd been whispering was now gone while the remaining person softly padded into the room.

"Go away," whimpered Rory, not much caring that her words were most likely muffled by her pillow. All she wanted was to sink back into the sweet, sweet oblivion of sleep.

"Nope, Dad said you need to get up," her daughter replied, shaking her shoulder. "So time to get up, Mom!"

"Shh, trying to sleep here," she mumbled.

"Mom! Get up!"

"Nope. Too comfy."

"Don't make me do the thing," the eight year old warned, to which Rory could only grunted in response. "Okay, you asked for it." She listened to her daughter take a deep breath before the girl began shaking her shoulder while repeatedly shouting out; "Mom! Ma! Mom! Mama! Mother! Mommy! Mom! Mom! Mother! Mommy! Ma! Moth-"

"All right, all right, I'm up, I'm up," Rory cried in submission. If there were any doubts that the grinning eight year old was a member of the Gilmore clan, that grand display of being annoying definitely dispelled them. She narrowed her eyes at her daughter with a mock glare. "You know, this is why some mothers in the wild will devour their offspring."

"Good thing this isn't Wild Kingdom then."

"You're definitely part Gilmore," sighed Rory, sitting up in her bed. After releasing another yawn, Rory smiled at her only child. "Good morning, Fred."

"It's Winifred, Mother," the girl huffed, bright blue eyes narrowed. "Fred is a boy's name."

"Yeah, yeah," she began only to pause at the powerful and sudden feeling of deja vu that washed over her just then. _Huh, weird._

"Ah, Mom? You okay?"

Rory glanced at her daughter's concerned expression, then ruffled her curly brown hair. "Of course, baby girl. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno," she shrugged. "Anyway, Grandma called and wished me happy birthday. She's waiting for us at the diner. She said Uncle Jess and Aunt Clara are there! So it means Abby's here, too, right?"

 _Okay, no wonder why she's so excited,_ Rory smiled. It had been nearly two months since Jess had moved back to Philadelphia to take over Truncheon as its sole owner, logically taking his wife and daughter with him. Needless to say, Fred had missed her close friend and cousin. "Is this your way of telling me to hurry up?

"Mom!"

"Ten minutes and I'll be ready," she promised. "Now shoo, baby girl. I need to change. Or do you want me to show up there in my pajamas?"

"Fine. You have ten minutes, mother," sighed Fred, dramatically throwing her arms up before leaving the room.

"Thank you, Emily!"

"Whatever, Lorelai!"

After having a soft chuckle at her daughter's expense, Rory stumbled out from bed and, as quick as her tired body would allow, got ready for their annual birthday brunch held in Fred's honor at Luke's. Well, annual since they had moved here from Hartford when her daughter turned three years old. Had it really been that long since they moved to Stars Hollow?

"Ma! Please hurry!" Fred implored from downstairs, the young girl's plea breaking Rory from her reverie. "Aunt Lane just phoned and said everybody's already there!"

"All right, all right, keep your pants on," she laughed, rushing down the stairs where both her husband and daughter were waiting. "Jeez, you're an impatient one, kiddo."

"I'm sorry, but Aunt Lane said that everybody's there already," apologized Fred. "Even Milan and her mom showed up!"

"Paris actually showed up?" Rory asked, surprised. It wasn't often the busy doctor could find time in her hectic schedule to visit Stars Hollow. "Wow. This is definitely a special occassion!"

"That's what Dad said," her daughter sighed, exasperated.

"Except I said it with more sarcasm," her husband chimed in.

"Can we go now?" Fred whined.

He frowned. "Winifred."

"Sorry," the girl looked down.

"Look, I know you're excited to see everybody but that's no reason to be rude," Marty admonished their only child. He looked over at his wife with a smile. "You look stunning, by the way."

"Flatterer," she grinned up at her husband.

He held his hand out to her. "Shall we?"

"Yes, we shall," Rory took his hand, then tip-toed to share a gentle kiss with him.

"You two are gross," the birthday girl complained like she always did when forced to witness her parents display affection for one another.

"Your daughter is full of sass this morning," Marty remarked.

"She gets it from my mother," complained Rory dramatically.

"You're killing me here, guys," pouted their daughter.

"Okay, okay, let's go," laughed Rory. With her daughter's hand grasped in one hand and Marty's in the other, she guided them out the door.

As Rory led her small family down the street towards Luke's to meet their gathered family and friends, she briefly remembered the recurring dream that had plagued her back in Chicago. No matter which of the many happy little variations the dream had taken, it was always around this point, where she was feeling the most blissful, that the reporter would wake up alone in her apartment. When the moment passed without incident though Rory let out a small chuckle before hurrying their pace, all the while blithely ignoring the bemused expressions on both her husband and daughter's faces.

* * *

 **THE END**

 **I should've warned you that it was hokie. Sorry about that. Anyway, it was such a fun (and often frustrating) experience writing this story. You have no idea how much I appreciate those you who have read and reviewed this fic through its entirety. Thank you for your continued support and impressive patience, good reader. Thank you, thank you, thank you!**

 **That all said, stay tuned. Even though Kismet is officially COMPLETED, I still have the alternate ending to post plus the eventual sequel.**

 **Until then, stay awesome.**

 **Sincerely yours,**  
 **\- Migs**

 **P.S. -** **Special thanks again to RyanPFW for recovering of this fic from the depths of nothingness. Now and forever, you the real MVP, buddy.**


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